Flash Fiction by Julie Smith
"She practices what she will tell her friend, who has already had sex with two boys and told her it was no big deal."
There is a room with dark wood paneling and a damp smell. There is a green couch with too many pillows. There is a girl, naked, on the floor in front of the couch. She grabs a blanket left crumpled in one corner of the sofa. She covers herself and begins to cry. She looks young, this girl. Fourteen? Fifteen? She is pale, a bit plump, with an abundance of corkscrew curls on her head. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. A dimple in her left cheek when she smiles.