A warm breakfast

He had been warned by his mother not to take this route. But the place was calm and quiet early in the morning, and he liked riding on his bicycle, on his way to buy milk and eggs for breakfast.

The ‘women in cages’ were fast asleep, and there were just a few faces trying to sneak out anonymous, unseen. He was sure breakfast was a meal the denizens of this street never had.

Ten years later, the social entrepreneur had started a school near the place, up the hill, for the children born in these dark dungeons. His first initiative was to organize a hot breakfast in school, and get the children there early.

He still hoped to see a forlorn face he had grown fond of, in his adolescent years, peeping through the windows. Her eyes would look empty and devastated, as if she never wanted to see another day. He keenly scrutinized the grubby faces of the neglected kids – maybe one of them had inherited the mother’s eyes. Maybe someday, she turned up to drop or pick up her child.

 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner – Week 22

6 thoughts on “A warm breakfast

  1. Wow! There was so much said in so few words. The ‘destitute’… the offering of a kind of ‘charity’… but even the ‘charity’ may have had a deeper motive… and then the ‘hope’ from the past. Such darkness from which to escape. Well done! Thanks for participating in this week’s challenge.

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  2. Goodness Reena but there is so much in all of this. The term “women in cages’ is fascinating. His opening the school and hoping to see the eyes of the woman who fascinated him. Excellent piece.

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