She stood at the sink, looking out the window, dreaming of better times and beautiful things long since gone away. The thought of him with that harlot made her skin crawl. How could he have been so heartless? She so blind?
Her chin dipped toward the forgotten dishes piled in the cool water. A tear traced a path to the edge of her nose, where it clung for a moment before plunging into the basin.
She steadied her trembling shoulders and returned her gaze outside, dreaming of better times and beautiful things long since gone away.
No horror today, only the sadness of a fictional woman. This one is actually a few words shy of 100 due to a last minute edit that I think makes it flow better. I usually strive to hit 100 words exactly, but I’ll make an exception this time.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
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