…..and then something snaps and Ellen throws the phone across the room, just hurls it hard like a baseball, where it hits the wall across from her and leaves a ghastly mark before it falls to the floor.
I wake up with the sun, but there is no light. It is dark, cloudy. The air is damp as I try to lift myself slowly from the couch, sore and heavy. I look at the mantel, but my eyes don’t stay long there.
It's been a long time since I shared a Sunday Story, but it's been a long time since I have had one to write. This one. This one really needed to be written and very much needs to be read. Every story does. But this one too!