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At some point in your story, a character says "You're better than this..."

She sat there on the stoop. Contemplating. Her eyes lost down the bustling street. She didn't see the trees placed at calculated distances stretching across each side of the road. She didn't notice her neighbor's fourth attempt to parallel park. She didn't hear the squirrels rustling in the leaves, nor the elderly couple squabbling as they shuffled down the walk. She couldn't embrace the beauty of life or the hope of today. She just stared.

Contemplating. What if? What if? What if?

She didn't hear the door creak behind her. She didn't feel the warm body sidle beside her.

She wasn't even there. Her body, yes. But it was still, empty, void. It was hollow and cold and alone. Her thoughts ran nowhere. Everywhere.

"You're better than this," is all she heard.

Her eyes snapped to the moment. The brilliance of fall. The bustle and struggle of life. The quiet and beautiful world.

"What'd you say?" she turned to ask, but she sat alone.


Looking for the T[ea]

Comments

Jenn said…
The being snapped back into reality, I felt it.
December 14, 2023 at 10:01 AM
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