“I know it’s only been three weeks…” she said to the one tree that she could see from that window, “but it feels like forever without my family and home.” It was cold the night that the wasichu came to her home. They told her parents that she needed to be taught the true way of God.  She needed to be civilized. They took her out into the night and shoved her into a smelly, black car. Her hands were clasped tightly in terror.


They arrived at an imposing building set back from the road. It had only one light lit near the front door. They roughly pushed and pulled her, entered a room with a woman in black robes sitting behind a desk. To the right there was a man in an all black suit. Telling her all that would be expected from her was difficult since she knew only a bit of the language they were speaking. All she knew for sure was that they did not like her. She bit her lip to keep from crying. What followed for that little Metis girl is too horrible to describe.


© Carol Campbell

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

“The opening sentence for the March 4th Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: “I know it’s only been three weeks…”’~ Roger Shipp

*Wasichu is a Native name for white people.

**Metis is a tribe in Canada.

❤ ❤ ❤


Published by: writersdream9

I have been writing all my life but for the most part, it has been a secret. My parents did not believe writing was a good way to earn money so I hid my poems. Then one day, I wanted to comment on an essay that a friend had written and found myself with a blog. That quiet whisper inside said, "You can write your poetry and no one will ever know.". I knew nothing of followers and the like at that time. So, here I am trying to learn my craft and enjoying every moment of it. My personal details are, I'm 57, married for 39 years, have one grown son who is God's gift to us and last but not least at all, I'm a Baha'i which basically means that I love all humanity.

Categories UncategorizedTags, 20 Comments

20 thoughts on “Residence”

  1. the alice cooper song lyric…welcome to my nightmare. only here the nightmare was all too real for first nations, meti, inuit and native americans sent to the boarding schools in north America, the little girl having one last gasp of freedom before the torture began. would she be one of the lucky ones to survive? or was it better, more lucky, to eventually die in those concentration camps for Christ? And the ghosts from those horror camps still pervade the daily life of many, many native peoples.

    Liked by 1 person

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