She opened the refrigerator, letting the door rock back. She took a sip of water as the smell of cigarettes knocked her back. His cigarettes. She closed the refrigerator to only find that he wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t. He hadn’t been for over a decade. But the smells, thoughts, and sounds lingered.
She stared out onto field. The moon was so far away. It seemed insurmountable. How could she escape if the moon was not within reach? She needed to rethink her life strategy. She headed back to the kitchen table and lit one of his cigarettes. She left it hanging over the kitchen sink as she put the rest in the garbage disposal. It was all garbage and time to clean house.
Categories: Culture, identity, mental health, photography, Psychology, society, women
Wow awesome story and she moved on.
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Thank you and cheers
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Welcome.
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Romancing the Stone
Philosophers Stone Now
Humans have the Ability
to Love
Pet
Rocks
Ode the
Colors
of the Moon
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I should get a pet rock
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i suggest the
Moon..:)
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Great start, If this is the start. I mean if I had not missed any previous chapters.
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Thank you!
Nope, no previous chapters. We shall see where it goes, if anywhere.
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Okay, good. If it feels right run with it.
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nice
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Thank you!
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