If you look deep in her eyes, you’d realize that she is a gypsy. Wrapped in scarlet silk, her enchanting beauty is certain to ensnare a soul and turn it alight.
But in a cavernous pit inside, her soul cries.
It cries for the forests she hadn’t gone exploring. It cries for the mountains she hadn’t gone climbing. It cries for the ruined cities. The crashing waves. The sunrise. The sunset. It cries for the pieces of whatever remained of her soul.
After roaming the concrete jungle, she sits in the abyss of what— all her life— she thought was a place called home. But it is not. Home is not the clicking of McQueens, the parade of Ralph Laurens, or the display of Gucci. It is neither a breakfast at Greystone Mansion nor a night at the Beverly Hills. At the end of the day, she’s broken. Shattered into pieces of unrecognizable mess. In this empty room, she melted into a tabletop, with nothing but a candle to light her night.
Miserable. Barren. Lost.
Word Count: 175
Here’s for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using 150 (+/- 25 words).
Enjoy more stories here.