06 April 2006

One Hundred Word Story

Rachel watched as her wedding ring rolled around the rim of the plug-hole, like an indecisive ball on a roulette wheel, before disappearing down into the darkness below. Had the clouds outside the kitchen window drifted into shapes which spelt the word ‘omen’ she would not have been surprised. She dried her soapy hands, trying to calm herself, and sat down at the table to wait for him in the gathering dusk. She thought of the bag hidden in the wardrobe upstairs. She thought of the plane ticket packed inside. She thought of an end and began, finally, to breathe.

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