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I don’t know if I’m a good writer, but I’m willing to get there!
Lover of Classics
Lover of life

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Thank you for reading! The fact that anyone read my work is so astonishing to me. I hope you enjoyed it!


May 12, 2021

The cold air was welcome from the humid heat of the now long past summer. Sorrow threw on a jacket, her favorite, a maroon fleece that was still soft from the lack of washing in the old washing machine. The machine came with the house and nearly tore to shreds everything placed inside. She went back to her bed and sat down in front of her computer. It was an older computer that made a sound like a plane was flying overhead when it was running and it was hot enough to cook on after using it for a while. It worked though and that was all that mattered. If only the wifi would work too.
She turned off the computer and laid back on the bed. It was quiet. In the woods of New Hampshire there was an abundance of quiet. It filled up space like syrup, trapping you inside of it. It filled our lungs and seeped into every crevice. Stifling, yes, but she was used to it. The silence was now an old friend, and old scratchy sweater you never got rid of.

Two knocks on the door. 

Sorrow shot up. No one was here in the house except her and she wasn’t expecting anyone. She looked at her dog in the corner of her room sleeping on last night’s flannel pajamas she didn’t pick up. He didn’t hear it, but then again he rarely heard anything anymore. 11 years is a long time in dog years. Lenny is a good dog, even still.

Instead of going downstairs she went to peek out her window. Someone’s car could be in the driveway and then she could know who it is. From her window she couldn’t see the door due to the moss covered roof of the porch. Before she could get to the window a flashlight shined up through her window. Instinctively, she stumbled back out of the glare. It was from the ground, someone looking up. She didn’t want to look. She slowly walked towards her bedroom door but she heard the handle of the front door jiggling open. 

Someone’s picking the lock. The thought ran through her body with a shiver. She looked back over to the window to get a good look at the car now that the harsh glare of the flashlight was gone. Shuffling on her hands and knees she eventually made it over to the window. Slowly, peering her head over the window sill she saw a dark colored pickup truck. It was from the 70s she guessed, the paint was dark but peeling off in big sheets like a sunburn.

The door creaks open. 

Whoever they are they’re inside. That’s it. I’m heading to my Mrs. B’s house. She only lives two miles down the road. Ms. B was a kind woman whose children had grown up and moved away. Her kids had dreams bigger than the state itself and they had to move on. Her husband died a few years ago so she was lonely. She wouldn’t mind. No, she wouldn’t mind at all. I hope. Grabbing her school backpack Sorrow grabs her phone, an extra fleece, and throws on her shoes. She grabs Lenny and puts a bandana over his eyes. If he can’t see or hear anything, he won’t bark. She places him in a bag and zips it up almost all the way. Just enough for him to stick his small snout out of the top.

She opened up her window and slipped out moving to the side to adjust the bag. As soon as she was out of view the door of her room creaked open. 


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