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Weekly Contest #27
July, 1923 The sea was churning and so was Mabel’s thoughts. Maybe the sun would set and the tides would change and everything would go on as it always had but she couldn’t yet see how she could go along with it. There was something else, a feeling, like she had to go somewhere. Had to get out. Had to run.The coffee she’d made this morning had been bitter and still lingered on the top of her mouth. She toed the edge of the cliff, kicked a few stones into the rolling waves. Let the silver locket dangle a little further from her hand and ...
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