Past Imperfect


It’s a lovely morning here, the sun is streaming in though the windows as I write, it looks more like spring than autumn. In any event, it’s a lovely day to wish a very Happy Birthday to Rochelle and to my sister, who also celebrates today.

I watched a building, much older than the one pictured, being pulled down a few days ago, and wondered…

4 September

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Past Forgiving

From a safe distance, I watch the demolition team start work. A small group of people gather at the safety barrier; I recognise a few of them, but doubt many would recognise me, now.

The place that was once my home but became my prison, is reduced to piles of rubble. A workman in the basement shouts something to his supervisor who runs across the street.  

Mrs Goodman leaves the group of onlookers; she glances in my direction, a half smile forming on her thin lips as she walks away. We both know what’s been found; no point hanging around.

 

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