I need a break. I’ve escaped to the backyard, lying across the little red bench tucked away in the corner.  Dinner is continuing without me indoors.  I hear the clink of silverware and glasses through the open windows.  The clash of angry voices.  My stomach starts to clench.  My head swims.  I won’t be able to sit upright.  I wonder how long it will be before they realize I’m not in the bathroom.  I’ll never understand a person that enjoys spewing bile and hatred, who favors confrontation over harmony.  How do you tell someone that they don’t fit in your life anymore?  That being around them literally makes you physically ill?

A few deep breaths later and I am finally able to stand.  I hear my name being called inside.  I rush around the side of the house to where my car is parked, thankful I thought to bring my purse with me.  As my turn my car in the direction of home, I realize that I’ve found my answer.

For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

30 thoughts on “Bench

  1. This is wonderful because “there is no place like home.” I don’t understand people like that either and your story brought up some memories of some. 🙂 Glad she got away! Great story!

  2. Yes, I don’t get people who are so loud, mean, and hateful. I think you have every right to leave to get away from such poison and not return. Great job.

  3. Sometimes the best thing to do is to simply remove yourself from the situation. I’ve never understood how people can be nasty and confrontational either. Really well done. 🙂

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