Her door opens.
No telling what will emerge.
Kind, happy, thoughtful, generous?
Depressed, self-pitying, self-loathing, despondent?
Drunk? Blacked-out? Hateful? Violent?
The household freezes, even the cat stops in her tracks, tensed, ready to flee the first flying object.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.