Before her mother died, she said to Jyothi, “It is not safe. You must hide. If no one sees you, you don’t exist.”
Living on the streets, Jyothi learned to acquire what she needed without being seen. Abandoned alleyways. Cardboard houses. Trash bin meals.
Sitting in a doorway one bright sunny day, loneliness squeezed her chest.
Jyothi cried out-loud, “If I do not exist, what is the point?”
A shadowy form blocked the sun as a man stood before her. His voice sounded, deep and low. “I see you.” He reached out his hand. “And, I can help you.”
This story is my contribution to “Friday Fictioneers,” a weekly challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff Fields. With the help of a photo prompt to inspire, we’re to write a 100-word story. The photo this week was provided by Sarah Potter.
If you would like to join in with this encouraging group of writers or read their stories from this week, visit here.
Thank you for stopping by. Stay safe, stay well!