Thursday, December 19, 2013

Going Home



                                           Waterloo Bridge by Monet

 

Sandy was going home for Christmas or that is what she told her friends.

She did think about it but the nearer Christmas came the more she remembered, and the more she knew that she would never go back.

Home was hell, she couldn’t look at her father anymore and her mother was weak and should have left him years ago.

When she had left her brothers said they wanted to go with her; it was just as well they hadn’t as she hadn’t made much of her life either.

As she walked over the bridge leading to the station she paused and threw her overnight bag into the river.

Passers by looked at her in amazement, she smiled at them and said “It’s OK I’ll go and fetch it” as she jumped in the icy water.

6 comments:

  1. I can understand this kind of desolation and defeat, I've been on that bridge before, but thankfully chose to keep walking, just barely. This is a good story, Robin, the hard reality is that for many Christmas magnifies every sorrow and hurt that is already present in their lives. I wish that someone could have entered her life just in time to show her that darkness doesn't last forever. The true gift of Christmas is hope.

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  2. Oh, another writer with a dark side. I like that.

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  3. Brief, but brilliant! I like this because that personalised incident encapsulates the dark mood, and the hopeless feelings, many of us have in these dismal and dangerous times.

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  4. Compelling story Robin. A friend of mine recently entered the Readers Digest 100 word competition but unfortunately it has closed now as I feel this piece you have written reduced to 100 words would certainly given the competition a shake!

    http://www.nmit.edu.au/blogs/bwap/2013/10/16/readers-digest-100-word-short-story-competition-2013/

    Cheers
    Peggy xxxxx

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  5. An unusually dark little read, for you. Nicely done, though, and not unrealistic. I've had times where the only thing that got me to the other side of the bridge was curiosity, and the certainty that the water would always be there.

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