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RestorationMaria paced around her tiny apartment for the thousandth time. She'd called the police, she'd canvassed the neighbourhood, she'd spoken to everyone she knew and a lot of people she didn't. Everyone in the area was keeping an eye out for Roberto and all she could do now was wait and hope for a phone call.

Like every other day, her son had gone to the corner store for milk. He wasn't completely blind, he could see shapes and shadows, enough to get to and from the shop with ease.

It made him feel important to be helping his mother. Maria knew that Indira, who ran the store, had a soft spot for her son and she guessed the regular treat of sweets played a big part in his eagerness to take on that particular chore.

Nothing out of the ordinary had been reported since Roberto went missing. No strangers were seen. No reports of other missing children had been made. The only thing anybody could remember seeing was the religious group in the beaten up old Volkswagon who had passed through a few days ago.

She and Roberto had stopped and listened for a while, but she found them a little on the excitable side for her tastes. Her son had been given a handful of small bible comics by one of their members, a girl not much older than him.

The sound of running feet made her catch her breath. Every time the children on her floor came home these last few days, she expected her son to burst through the door. It was the same this time, the footfalls continued along the hall.

Maria collapsed into chair and sobbed into her hands.


A gentle hand on her head drew her from her grief. As she looked up, Roberto flung himself into her arms.

"Where were you, baby? What happened?" She held his face in her hands. Staring back at her was not the clouded brown eyes of her son, but a pair of bright clear eyes, one blue and one green.

Roberto giggled at her shocked expression. "The preachy people said you were pretty, they didn't tell me you looked like the angels in their comics."

Maria reached for the crumbled book on the table. "...the way to redemption is to give of thyself unto others..." It seemed they took it literally.

15minuteficletsword #62: redeem


( 8 howls — talk to the wolf )
11th Jul, 2004 00:53 (UTC)
Wow! This is excellent! You just blew me away with this. Truly. Wow!
11th Jul, 2004 03:20 (UTC)
Was quite pleased with this. It comes to you courtesy of two recent news articles; one on an eye transplant and the other on a loony fundie cult who have a thing for donating their own kidneys and are in trouble for lying to become donors.
11th Jul, 2004 06:29 (UTC)
Which goes to prove that "truth is stranger than fiction".

But, honestly, I think it was down to your writing. Excellent piece.
(Deleted comment)
11th Jul, 2004 04:02 (UTC)
Had the urge for dark again. This one took a while to percolate through and was nowhere near the original plans I had for the challenge. Still, half the fun.
12th Jul, 2004 09:11 (UTC)
*speechless* I loved the ending; the twist was so unexpected. I also like the way you capture the mother's grief; I could feel her pain.
13th Jul, 2004 06:13 (UTC)
Glad that you enjoyed it and also that you didn't see the end coming. That's always fun as a writer.
12th Jul, 2004 23:06 (UTC)
Mm. Excellent, well-developed, and lovely. (It's interesting to hear this was inspired by the news.)
13th Jul, 2004 06:33 (UTC)
Thank you. Being a newshead does have its advantages. Don't know whether potential plot lines wins out over astounding time sink.
( 8 howls — talk to the wolf )