Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Wound Up

Sandra turned and ran towards the house. She tripped up the steps to the front porch, falling on her hands and knees. Tears broke free of their ducts and coursed down her cheeks. She sprang up, face burning with the heat of embarrassment and dashed to the door.
She entered the foyer and skidded to a stop just before she collided with the years of accumulated junk. The stench of her mother’s collected garbage and her mother’s decomposing body acted like a dose of ice cold water shocking Sandra out of her hysterics. She vomited on her ruby red shoes.

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