Went for a little more of a narrative feeling this time, like something that could be continued beyond this particular story. Too bad I’ll never do that!
Title: Blesséd Boy
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
My mother said I’m different because of my skin. I asked her what that means.
“Just look at yourself,” she said.
My snow-white skin shines in the mirror.
“You are pure,” she said. “Like a cloudless morning.”
My life is this house with my picture on the walls and incense burning at every hour. Sometimes I wonder what’s outside our metal fences. But I’m told not to worry about such sinful places. Here, I can remain untainted.
Even my smile is white in the mirror and it’s smiling at me. Maybe this golden cage is best for my beautiful feathers.
Everybody knows that “Blesséd” just sounds better than “Blessed.”
It’s been proven by, like, science and stuff.
Good luck, you brave writer folk!