Belly/Belie

I remember the push of the needle through my flesh, a burst of pain, the reddened swelling, and then the bruise, spreading like a distorted coneflower from my stomach.

“Sexy,” he mutters later. He pushes my sweater higher up around my breasts, leaning in to kiss the tender flesh around the belly ring. I look up at the ceiling tiles. I close my eyes, and I imagine this ring is a portal. I crawl through the small metal circle, into the deep hull of this ship--a stowaway, hidden from view. I smile. It works. He doesn’t even notice I’m gone.

From Guest Contributor Helen Raica-Klotz

Recovery

The healing came slow. A damaged psyche doesn’t show like a bruise. Her little boy needs her; she is everything to him and he is the world to her. But she needs to be whole for him.

More than a month of repair to start the recovery. Participation in daily activities was the first sign. A faint light at the end of the tunnel, but a light nonetheless. Her posture showed confidence. Then her gait picked up a bit. A twinkle returned to her eyes. Her journey would be long and arduous, but she was on her way to recovery.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among others.