Photography by CEayr
“I hope they don’t find out where I hide everything,” Sheila thought as she continued to walk toward the old exit.
At home nothing was safe anymore, they were merciless.
Sooner or later they would go through her things.
She stepped over the chain and leaned her forehead against the cold stone. She felt exhausted.
“I have no choice; I have to get things out of the house.”
Sheila turned around; made sure nobody had followed her.
“Next year the Twins will be older and I will hide the Christmas presents at home,” she mumbled as she opened the door.
(Word count: 100)
Writing a post for the Friday Fictioneers is so much more pleasant than reading the news in the morning. Thank you, Rochelle!
Time to get ready for the day, there is a turkey waiting. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
The happy Quitter! 