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Weekly Contest #35
The park was directly across the street from the library as you exited its doors for the evening, it was hard to miss as the wind wending its way through the trees seemed to call her name. She didn’t want to go home yet; she also had no desire to be out. It had been this way since the death. That’s how she thought of it now all of the time, in the third person and obtuse so that it didn’t come too close to touching her because if it did, it burned, and she suffocated. It was just the death. Two words, one syllable each that seemed to define ...
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