“This was the first time I had ever had to sign for a letter addressed to ‘Female Occupant.’”  

It was Claudia’s second time at one of the wine and paint classes that were popping up all over the city.  There was never really much painting taking place, just gossip.

“What was inside?”  Tess demanded, on the edge of her seat, her paintbrush stationary in front of her mostly blank canvas.

“A short note fell out, it just said, ‘I thought you should know.’  No signature.  It’s probably one of the neighbors.  Anyway, a bunch of photos fell out, a woman coming and going from my house during the day while I’m at work, when Jack is supposedly ‘working from home.’  Really young, maybe a college student…”

Tess gasped so loudly a few people turned and stared.  She glared back.

“What are you going to do?”  Marie whispered.

“I don’t know.  I can’t just leave.  Can I?  I have four children…”

As Claudia babbled on, Marie reminded herself that she had done all she could, the rest was out of her hands.  She turned her attention to her painting, rushing to make hers as perfect as the instructor’s.

For Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner


4 thoughts on “Detached

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