It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Ted Strutz
She looked at the instruments lined up on the tray. They glistened in the light. How sharp their ends look! She quivered in the chair. Her mouth was dry. There was no need for paper apron around her neck.
She saw the wire mesh on the window. Beyond her boardinghouse the ferry sat. It will leave without her. She choked back a sob. The tears trickled down her face. She wiped them with the apron. She needed it after all.
He walked in, gloved and masked, and sat in front of her. She grabbed his hand.
“Will you hurt me?”