by Greg Beatty
(256 words)
“Read it again, papa!” the little girl cried.
“Again?” her father said. But he was smiling. He opened the very worn, very faded children’s book, and began—again. Truthfully, though, he barely glanced at the pages. He could have retold the story without the book at all, if his daughter hadn’t loved the pictures so much.
“Okay, here we go.”
She wiggled against him, happy beyond words. He read the story, giving her time to run her paws over the images.
“Once upon a time,” they said in unison, and then she went quiet so she could listen.
“There was a happy little family.” She turned the page.
“There was a mommy, a daddy, and a little girl.” She turned the page.
“They lived in a pretty little house.” She turned the page, and said, “Like us!”
“In a happy little town.” She turned the page.
“Where they raised their garden.” Turn.
“And played with their puppy.” Turn.
“And nothing ever happened.” Turn.
“Any day of the month.” She paused before turning to the last page, and looked her daddy in the eyes.
“Or any night,” they said together.
Then they both sighed.
“Night, princess,” he said.
He tucked the blanket tightly around her, then glanced out the window. “It isn’t full yet, baby girl, but it is close.”
“Okay, papa.” She held out her wrists, and he clamped the silver cuffs around them, before cuffing himself with a larger set. Then he put the key in a time release lockbox that wouldn’t open until morning.
END
Greg Beatty writes poetry, short stories, children’s books, and a range of nonfiction. He’s published hundreds of works—everything from poems about stars to essays on cooking disasters.
When he’s not writing, he walks with his dog, dabbles in the martial arts, plays with his grandchildren, and teaches college.
For more information on Greg’s writing, visit https://beattytales.com/
You can also find his stories on Amazon and Payhip.