By Jen
She emptied her life onto the step. Tissues, tampons, trauma. A faded receipt for a lunchtime treat teased taking flight.
Stale gum, clear sticky gloss, an umbrella that wouldn’t keep her dry in a drizzle. No keys.
Every window was alight, its inhabitants unbothered about their energy footprint—the bill she would foot.
She should reach out. Push a finger into the doorbell, impress a rat-a-tat-tat to the imploring door.
Leaving her worldly belongings for the porch to feast on she drifted away from the shore lights. She was buoyed for the first time without the weight of her life jacket.
Very haunting story! Thought provoking. Nicely done!