She could remember it so clearly: long days spent on the road, sitting in the passenger seat with her mother behind the wheel of their rusting orange car. They’d sung along to pop songs playing on loop.

Her nomadic childhood had shaped her whole existence. To be told now that it was false memory, that her mother had died before she’d even turned one…

Her foundations were crumbling.

Word count: 68 words

This post is for the Weekend Writing Prompt. To find out more about this challenge, check out Sammi Scribbles page.
This is the first piece of flash fiction that I’ve written for a long time. It took far too long to get it down to the word limit!

I hope you like it.

5 thoughts on “Nomad

    1. Disquieting tends to be my go to! This was my first flash fic in several years, and I just had to make it a little odd. Thanks for reading. 😊


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