Flash: Popsicle Passover

Photo by Erol Ahmed on Unsplash

The popsicle dropped, staining the threshold red. I kick it aside into the bushes beside our front door. Beside me, my dad reached for the brush in a bucket of blood. He swishes it against the lintel and doorposts in the last moments before sunset. Hurriedly we enter our home and shut the door.

(words 54, first published 3/4/2023 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)