Sparse evergreen boughs of a cast off Christmas tree in the alley afforded her little shelter as the snow scuttered on the biting wind. Better than at the shelter with the singing and false merriment. A meal; a pair of socks and mitts. Bah humbug. Rum and a rug would suit her better. Why pretend things were jolly and bright? From abused child to street kid to abused wife; no peace on earth. She held no good will towards men. Post-modern Classic.

“WTF?,” she thought. From a boarded up store, music, light, warmth mulling into the street. Raving kids she thought but was drawn towards the open door. “Mary,” said her old friend Joseph, “C’um on in – we’ve been waiting for you . . .” (word count 125)

For Priceless Joy’s FFfAW #93; image by Maria @ Doodles & Scribbles.

(c) Lorraine

 

 

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