I Didn’t Go There

Flash Fiction 365 was a project intended to stretch the writerly muscles. Today’s prompt was: I Didn’t Go There.
For the last time in the first place I lived, I closed the door and locked it. Quick. Within, my own youthful giggles and wails echoed through the annals of the house. The window pane reflected the ghoulish visage of a ten year old Geraldo, passing off as Davy Jones, returned from the moorish deep. The crease of my brow was less pronounced in those days, and I kept the same toothy grin. Old neighbors honked by, remembering little Geraldo, too.
I locked that door and never looked back.

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