Sorry for my absence last week; I hope not to make a habit of it! This week’s story, inspired by The Reclining Gentleman‘s photo, could almost be a prequel to one I wrote months ago, but hopefully also stands alone. I’d love to read your thoughts.
Preparations
“You’re doing the right thing,” Irene smiled gently at her friend.
“Am I? Every time I think I’m choosing the tunnel with light at the other end it turns out to be headlights on an oncoming train.” Sandy brushed away the tears. “What if I leave him and it’s just worse?”
Irene didn’t say anything.
“It could be worse though,” Sandy insisted. “He never hurts the kids.”
“Hitler never hit his dog.” Irene picked up the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Next time, bring me stuff for them and then you’re ready. I’m going to miss you, babe.”
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