This is darker and more twisted than I usually write, but I like it. Limit 100 words with prompts that don’t really make a difference here.
Terrence, I’d heard his mommy call him before she sat down with her coffee and her phone.
So simple. Like ordering from a catalog.
Fishing line’s best for binding hands and feet. Fifty pound test won’t break and wriggling cuts easily through a child’s skin. He’s still soon enough.
Treated him same as I had my own, but he was no more special than the others. Too soon his bright blue eyes went dark. That night I pitched his sack over the railing and watched it sink in the current.
I have faith. I’ll find the one.