My Word

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By Kim Mannix

“I give you my word,” he says.

What a leap of faith we take — to trust words. I made the leap with Jake five years ago, hoping we both meant “I do.” I believed my Mom, when she swore I wouldn’t always feel as hollow as I did the day our baby died.

Then there’s this man, with his rotting teeth and red rimmed eyes. Even through my blouse I can feel the cold blade against my belly.

“Give me your purse and I give you my word, I won’t hurt you.”

I have no choice but to leap.

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