Wishing to Disappear

The warmth of July summer entranced me. I’d come to the beach to escape. Make-up covered my bruised face, I’d used my married sisters ID to check into the motel. I didn’t really feel safe, even walking on the beach in the windy dusk on this isolated island. I knew he had his sources, his “people”. I walked near the edge of thee beach grasses, ready to dash into the light of a lobby or bar.

Suddenly, I heard his voice on the deck on the motel. “Where is she!” he yelled.

This IS atrophy I thought, frozen in my steps.

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2 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    unfortunately this happens to so many…great write Brenda.

  2. 2

    My old life you captured it well HUGS


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