Roopa winced as the water touched her skin. She’d always hated the feeling.
The cold, wet liquid dripped into the cracks and made her moan pitifully.
Hush, soothed Rani’s voice as she cradled Roopa’s head in her palms, spooning the water into the tiny grooves on her scalp.
Roopa’s eyes gazed into Rani’s liquid, brown ones, gratitude spilling forth. How did she get so lucky? What had she done to deserve this woman?
As if reading her mind, Rani stroked Roopa’s furry head, rubbed her belly and said, ‘Did you know your beautiful flaws are what made me adopt you, my dear?’
Welcome to The Moving Quill!
For this year’s A to Z Challenge, I’ve taken up the theme of Oxymorons rendered in micro-fiction.
Each day’s title will have one half of the oxymoron while the second half will be revealed towards the end of the post.
Follow me as I unravel each tale in exactly 100 words