The house was eerily quiet. The chilly air, a reminder of her long-term estrangement from her mother.
Sorting through years of her mementos was going to be laboriously stressful. It would be easier once Monique arrived.
She opened a leather box her mother kept on her desk. Letters from France?
Angelique read the last letter:
‘Dearest, I miss you, though your touch lingers still. Without you, time is an empty space. I long to hold you. My heart aches for your return. Come back soon, Mon amour. Je t’aime, Pierre’
Ergo, the secret of our French names finally revealed.
Although there wan’t any dinner because he’d arrived late, he felt no ill will.
Freshly brewed coffee and donuts were set out for the night. This would be enough for him.
~~~~~~~
The street lights were a warm welcome for the oncoming damp chilly night.
The lamppost, near his favorite bench, the ideal place to secure the fine bicycle he’d found at the Salvation Army today. The boots fit him perfectly, too. He was happy the saleswoman had given him this woolen blanket as he left.
Soon sleep. And, another day would have been lived.
“Maw,” Becky Sue whined, tears streaming down her face.
“Child, look what you’ve done,” Momma said pointing to the floor.
“Ya’ll dragged muddy dirt in. I’m near ‘bout to lose my mind with all the work that’s gotta be done ‘round here.”
“But, Maw, come see. Bubba’s done a real bad thing,” Becky Sue bawled.
“Please Maw, please come see.”
“Fine! I suppose it’s gotta be important.”
“Look,” Becky Sue pointed.
“Lordy that child’s done gone too far this time. Drinkin’, smokin’ and breakin’ your favorite dolly.”
“Go find me a switch, Becky Sue. Someone ‘round here needs some learnin’.”
Harry stares out the window. He sits and stares since his Ruby’s brutal murder.
He’d taken her to the museum; then, a dimly lit dinner. She was beautiful.
Harry noticed the waiter leer at her. She provoked men with her beauty.
Her eyes the color of emeralds.
Now, he sit and stares.
He doesn’t care if he leaves the room.
He doesn’t pay bills; watch television or knows who feeds him.
His life is whatever passes outside the window.
All he sees are changing seasons, joggers, passing cars and Ruby’s ghost.
She could see Marcus in his white Escalade. He made sure all his girls were where they were supposed to be. Stay warm, baby, Candy’s bringing you what you want. Money …
~~~~~
How did she get in this mess? She’s from Connecticut. We’re good girls.
Me? I’m the rebel. I never follow rules.
Candace could see no way out. She wasn’t Candace anymore.
~~~~~
“Hey Darlin’, lookin’ for some fun?”
“Sure, baby”.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
~~~~~
The bright marquee lit the seedy motel. The room stank of smoke and sweat.
~~~~~
Thug!
If he hadn’t pulled the knife, Marcus wouldn’t have shot.
Rochelle hosts the Friday Fictioneers challenge
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*****Social anxiety disorder also called social phobia involves overwhelming worry and self-consciousness about everyday social situations. The worry often centers on a fear of being judged by others, or behaving in a way that might cause embarrassment or lead to ridicule.
Anxiety disorders can cause such distress that it interferes with your ability to lead a normal life.This type of disorder is a serious mental illness. For people who have one, worry and fear are constant and overwhelming, and can be disabling. But with treatment, many people can manage those feelings and get back to a fulfilling life. info:web md
