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May 25, 2017

This has been my home for a while now. I sleep in the pile of ratty blankets over there. It’s okay, they don’t smell too bad. I eat over here where I can peer out of the window. The glass is stained with dust, but I can see through the smears to the empty street below. It’s quiet too. I like it. It’s home.

The slightest noise draws my head up. I search for the cause. There. A hunched, limping figure. I watch him move past until he is gone. I don’t call out.

Dinner time. I like the quiet.

 

 

This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt

Word count: 100

 

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27 Comments
  1. It can be difficult to find a space to be alone in these days in our busy world. Maybe this is the answer…!

  2. It’s every man for himself here. 😉

  3. Home is where the heart is… and, in this case, it’s way better than the street. She seems to feel safe and secure so, hopefully, she really is!

  4. Dear Laurie,

    My first thought was “where does she get her food?” Perhaps I don’t want to know. You did a good job of setting the tone and creating the atmosphere. Well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  5. Life Lessons of a Dog Lover permalink

    I agree with Rochelle the tone and atmosphere in this was really well done.

  6. It’s not easy to draw emotions with words. You did it well.

  7. I can empathize with her – some days I hanker for solitude that i feel terribly restless and suffocated. Of course I bring my own supply of food, internet, laptop, phone… 😀

  8. She seems to have found a certain peace in her situation. Nicely done.

  9. Maybe being lonely is perfect for some… but usually it’s harder in the long run.

  10. There are so many days I feel like this. “Just leave me be, don’t talk.” But serving me dinner would be grand! Well done.

  11. She’s found her sanctuary spot and seems happy with it, I doubt anyone will be challenging her for it, but I wonder if it’s not bit scary at times and if she’ll want to stay there for long

    • Good points Michael. I don’t think she knows what the future will bring. She’s living each day at a time.

  12. I guess the rats have to watch their backs with her around, as someone who never leaves their dwelling has to eat somehow (thinking of various medieval sieges and the lack of dietary choice for the besieged citizens). Your story makes me wonder what she’s running away from, or if she’s suffering from mental illness.

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