How long will a wire extend before it reaches the moon? Too long, perhaps. I stared at the man pulling my hanging wire basket from the place it lived for the last decade. He emptied it unceremoniously and dumped it into a box full of all my other garden paraphernalia.
I wonder if I should have foreseen this outcome. We had always had our differences, he wanted a dog and I wanted cats, he wanted two kids and I wanted none. But I gave way to his desires, each time. To think that even with all that ‘compromise’ he’d end up drinking himself to the point of no return. He was clearly dealing with some demons that he refused to disclose to me, even though I was meant to be his confidant. The bruising had dulled, thankfully, and my sister had offered me a place to stay indefinitely. My work had been surprisingly understanding, but I don’t think it will last, ultimately. I worked that job for his sake. I now get a chance to be my own person, to grow into the woman I always wanted. Fifteen years; high school sweethearts. Fucking Hallmark bullshit.
Today's prompt: wire basket
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1503-5-minute-freewrite-thursday-prompt-wire-basket
