Crooked frames. Semi-empty shelves. Longing for pickles and barns. That was life. Or so she was told. She was advised to accept things as they are and will be. No need to change things outside of her control. Thing is, according to all those around her nothing was within her realm of control.
She poured herself a glass of chardonnay and told herself things would change. She pulled back the plant. Straightened the frame. Grabbed her bag. She left and never came back.