The Soiled Clothes
The Soiled Clothes
“Mum, why do you wipe the floor so often?”
“They get dirty, honey.”
“And why do you rub the dishes this hard?”
“Can’t you see how greasy they are? It isn’t good to be dirty.”
“Mum, where do kids come from?”
“They come from under the backyard.”
“Can I play with them?” Tim pointed out of the window towards a bunch of kids.
“No. Not at all. Beware of those kids. They’re dirty. Don’t you see their soiled clothes?”
“Quite a few questions for today. Go to your room. I need to take a bath.”
“One last question. Just one?”
Sophie smiled at his puppy face.
“I found some old pictures in the store room. Who are those kids you’re holding in them? They look similar to the ones I see in the front yard.”
“Shh. Enough questions for the day. In your room right away.”
Tim was a curious, five-year-old boy living with his mother in a desolate Kotare Village, New Zealand. Growing up, he often encountered few children in his front yard. They seemed friendly and Tim had always wanted to play with them but his mother never allowed. Being an obedient child he never disregarded her orders.
However, he finally did the unexpected and sneaked out to play. After all, how long could he play with his mother alone. There weren’t any houses nearby to play with neighbor’s kids.
A concerned Sophie starts to look everywhere in the house for him. Tim loved playing hide and seek. After searching for a while, she finally ceases on finding him crawl inside the house from the back door.
“Where have you been?” She grabbed him by his shoulders. Tim’s soiled t-shirt and those kids starring from a distance answered her question.
“I told you not to play with them. Now, get inside. I’ll bathe you clean.” A distraught Sophie carried him to the bath tub.
“I’m sorry, mum.” Tim’s voice shuddered as he apologized.
“No, I am sorry.”
Convulsing for a while, Tim breathed his last.
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