Wall

mary-shipman1
Mary Shipman

“You’re so sweet to always volunteer to close the store!”  Madison poked her bottom lip out in a bizarre show of solidarity.

Bree straightened an antique clock.  “You’ll make it up to me.”  Though you’ve never tried.

“Stop by the bar when you’re done if you want to hang out!” I never do.  Madison gave her one last pitiful glance before leaving.

Bree finished her duties quickly, then leaned against the back wall in the secret place the store’s owner had revealed to her.  The wall slid away, and Bree hurriedly descended the dark stairs.  Her true friends were waiting.

For Friday Fictioneers

 

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23 thoughts on “Wall

  1. This for me is bitter sweet, for the dark stairs hint at evil? But I like the way you have penned the story.

    1. I wonder about them too. Sometimes people who feel like outcasts are more susceptible to the wrong types of people. Thanks for reading.

    1. Very true. Sometimes we assume the worst of people but her offer to come to the bar could have been sincere. Thanks so much!

  2. Pingback: Wall | The Drabble

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