The following are three mini-stories I wrote, sort of glimpses into the lives of different types of people. Enjoy!
A motto
It was bleak. But when was it not?
I picked up my mask – worn thin from years of fighting – and got ready to give it my all, to salvage what I could in this savage world, with accidents in every corner.
One day at a time.
One life at a time.
One fire at a time.
Symbolic hope
The butterfly was gorgeous – stunning, breathtaking.
It flew so high.
Majestic, nature’s delight.
I looked at it from bed.
The tubes of my oxygen tank whirring in the background, a harsh accompaniment to the life-saving machinery crowded in the room, every corner full.
I looked at the butterfly and, through a harsh gasping breath, I smiled.
Carrying on
“I’m leaving!” I slammed the car door, “And don’t bother coming back, I’m done with you!”
Without a glance, he swerved into the next lane and drove off, leaving nothing but the fading roar of his engine behind.
The cars whirled past me.
I stood quietly in the middle of the street, my hand clutching my Burberry bag, my pearls a knot around my throat.
I was alone.
I straightened my shoulders, refusing to crumble; whatever happened next, I still had my dignity, even if it was all I had.
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