I'm not really sure what this is.
It was the beginning of the green hour, the sky darkening rapidly. Emily scampered inside to avoid the twilight minutes before the street lamps flickered on and illuminated the deep emerald of the sky.
The birds had begun chirping somewhere in the middle of the pink hour, relentless in their demands for food that she could not provide. She had spent the intervening few hours picking scraps from the floor and placing them into a small, ragged bag. She had barely enough when she sprinkled it on the floor of the cage. The birds were on it immediately, fighting over the meagre crumbs she could scrape up from outside the bakery.
The world sucks right now so this is a little flight of fancy.
When the world felt like it had turned upside down Sheila liked to indulge in old habits. The burn of a cheeky cigarette, a whole bottle of wine gone in an evening, a grease-soaked takeaway. The little things that she denied herself most of the time.
The world felt all twisted up, like she was living in a parallel universe where people spewed hate without fear of retribution. She had taken to watching the news like it was a horror film. A whole bottle of wine only gave her a headache and didn’t calm her mood.
3 bottles of cheap wine
Half a dozen cans of beer
1 goldfish bowl of bad decisions
3 tbsp self doubt
3 ounces of dutch courage
My brain is a saboteur. Working against itself to cause distress and unhappiness. My brain is like the worst spy in the world. Instead of James Bond-ing around and destroying its enemies (I guess unhappiness and anxiety are Dr No and Blofeld in this analogy*) it is sat in the corner of a small room second-guessing its every move and reporting back to M (that would be me) that all is hopeless and I might as well give up now.
Thanks brain! Dickhead.
When they said she was stubborn they had no idea how true that would be. Once Mary got an idea in her head she would not let go, like a sloth hanging from a branch she would not budge.
It had got her into trouble plenty of times, the time she learnt about boxing and promptly punched a classmate in the face maybe hadn’t been her best use of her tenacious application of knowledge but it certainly stopped him from looking down her top so she wasn’t too bothered.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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