Sally Sells Seashells

Sally sells seashells on the seashore, Daddy chants, And who are you? He asks holding me up.

I’m Sally, I’m Sally! I yell. He holds me so high I touch the sky and see the end of the ocean

Mommy used to tell Daddy not to lift me so high. But Mommy doesn’t talk much anymore.

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Mommy came with us to the beach house but she’s gone now. Daddy says Shhhh, Sally. Mommy’s sleeping. He puts his finger to his lips and points to the bedroom door. She was crying when we got here and I ask Daddy Was she was crying because she missed her nap? I cry when I miss my nap but I don’t say that. Daddy doesn’t like when I cry; he wants me to be a big girl.

Yes, Sally, Daddy says patting my head, And when Mommy cries I need to send her to her room.

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Mommy hasn’t come out and Daddy went shopping. He tells me Leave Mommy alone, but I miss her. He’ll be mad, but maybe one kiss for Mommy can help.

I push open their door, peeking through. Mommy isn’t here but it smells like someone had an accident. Maybe Mommy did – I do, sometimes, when Daddy yells too much. I hear the front door open, and I slipslide under the bed so fast Daddy won’t even know I’m here.

The smell is so much worse down here, and I bump into something that doesn’t move.

Hi, Mommy.

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This was a challenge to myself. I am trying to make sure I write every day in November, and when I got stuck for inspiration I decided to write a micro-fiction piece by getting prompts from aa random phrase generator. It popped out, "Collecting seashells on the shore, Something is under the bed, Sinful crimes," and voila! Here is my self-challenge.