‘Chloe! Wow.’
‘Hello, Brett.’
‘You’re a mother now?’
Chloe looked down at the stroller.
‘How old is she?’
‘Just gone two years.’
‘Two years? So, she’s …’
‘We have to go.’
‘Wait. I’m a … a dad?’
‘No, no you’re not.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You’d moved and changed your number.’
‘Well, my parents then?’
‘I did. They told me to get an abortion.’
‘What?’
‘That’s between you. We’re going now.’
‘Wait, Chloe. Can we talk about this?’
‘No.’
‘Can I at least say hello. Hold her.’
‘No.’
‘But I’m her father.’
‘No. You were just a torn condom.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Oh, I have to admit I like Chloe's attitude, Rob. And I especially like the inference about what it is to be a dad. Well done
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