Peachplums (United States) published:
PROMPT: Flash Fiction Competition 2020
I took a step closer towards the burdened silhouette. She was nostalgia. Her hands were lined broken and weathered from trying to hold on to all the wrong people who broke her with broken love. Her hair was crumpled and shoved into another teased bun and her eyes roamed from face to face to face to me. Cut feet. Bent wrists. Shallow eyes. Thin teeth.
She was made up of everything I wish she wasn’t made of.
about 1 year ago