Over the River by D. Avery
“Everything go okay, Grandma was all right?”
She knew she was later than expected in spite of, or perhaps because of, having taken the shortcut, but nonchalantly removed her riding hood, placed the red cape on a peg by the cottage door. The smell of loaves baking in the small vaulted ovens next to the hearth made her ravenous but she carefully answered her mother’s questions, knowing it would not do to fabricate a story, but to carefully pick her way through the truths.
“Grandma was fine, maybe more than fine— I think she’s sweet on that woodsman that’s always hanging around; he was there and I think they were more glad to see me going than coming.”
Her mother tsk-tsked but it was true, she’d no sooner arrived than the older couple practically shoved her back out the door but she had been happy enough to just drop off that basket and make her way back through the woods. A small smile softened her lips while she distractedly stirred the stew that hung in the fireplace, musing how her mother lived by fear and assumption, believing all woodsmen to be noble and cavalier, all strangers evil and dangerous; behind her her mother’s face went as red as the cape with the small tear in its rough fabric, the tear fringed with frayed threads and clinging forest duff.
There’s my six sentences for the weekly Six Sentence Story prompt, “fabric”. Go to Denise’s GirlieOntheEdge’s blog for the link up to leave your own story using the prompt word in exactly six sentences. Or just go by to read more six sentence stories, but please, read and write responsibly.