A bitter pill, swallowed whole, of censure and spite awaited her as she entered the house. Critical mass. Her bags were unloaded – so much baggage.
“Your room is over there.”
Fingers pointed.
Shuffling, she closed the door, finally tastingย her own medicine.
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poetry, thoughts, quotations
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Random musings on life, society, and politics.
Mainly through the lens of a Nikon
This is terrific! Full of ambiguity and possibilities.
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Thank you.
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So sad. I hope she mends the rift.
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so much baggage… that adds so much to the story. Nice!!
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That’s what I was hoping for. ๐ Thanks!
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That baggage can truly scar a person forever.
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It sure can.
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You have me reading and re-reading, wanting to know more of the backstory!
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Good! I have you hooked. ๐
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I feel the same way – this is one of those that leaves you wondering what happened and what will happen.
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I like how you highlighted her loneliness by suggesting that people were around her doing things (Fingers pointed, bags unloaded) but never giving them bodies or voices!
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Thanks. It’s tricky fitting things into so few words.
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