Saturday started like any other. Chad was at gym while she sat quietly thumbing through messages, sipping her morning tea. The doorbell rang and Abigail answers to find a woman with child standing alone on the porch.

Abigail stood in the eye of the storm. Lies and deceit laid bare for all to see. A swath of her existence torn asunder. Pieces of her dreams and hopes thrown into the hurricane, spinning widdershins about her.

Week #245 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt.
Word: Widdershins, Count: 75

Photo credit: Valentin Müller via Unsplash

Copyright 2022 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.


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