Once he had left it because absolutely clear that I missed him. Before he had left it wasnt so clear. Not at all. In fact, I had fully expected to breathe a sigh of relief once the door closed and I never had to look at his face again. Once it actually happened it was different. Much different.
It made no sence. Well, maybe it did. I had never been very nice. To him, I mean. The times I had snapped could be counted on my fingers. One two three four five six...
He hadn't left any of those times....
(To read Part 3, follow this link: http://sixminutestory.com/stories/somewhere-better-part-3.)
"Choose as you please," said Someone Good. "Surrender to the breeze, or fight for control. Which do you value: predictability, or potential. The known and the now, or the unknown, the good?"
As the air whipped in gusts around her, gripping her, twisting her, she struggled. Within herself, she wrestled for a choice. Would she allow herself to be carried up by these winds of change?
Somehow she knew that this was a defining moment. It was here, in the borderlands of Somewhere Better, that she could either fight her way back...
It was supposed to have been the most attention-grabbing scenario she could place herself into. There she was, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in her cute little dress, with her pretty hair all done up, twirling a gauzy parasol, and just oozing schoolgirl charm...
And the people around her walked on past, as if in a blur of life and busyness.
Occasionally she noticed glances from other young women, but instead of being jealous or judgmental -- two attitudes she was very familiar with and, frankly, appreciated equally -- all she received was a vague sense of disappointment....