Her son gives her a last firm, fierce hug before getting in the
car. She goes up the steps and
waves them goodbye from her front door — just as her mother, and before that
her grandmother, always did.
They drive away. She goes inside, collects the bundled sheets and
towels they used, drops them in the washing machine and turns it on. Then she
remakes the beds.
It’s a nice hot, breezy drying day. She hangs the linen on the line. She’ll bring it all in dry in a couple of hours.
Time now to catch up with emails and facebook, before getting dinner
for herself and her cat and settling in for the evening’s telly.
At 10.30, yawning, she looks at her watch and says out loud. ‘I thought it must be after midnight. How the night’s dragging on!’
At 10.30, yawning, she looks at her watch and says out loud. ‘I thought it must be after midnight. How the night’s dragging on!’
Prompt: Writing as someone else? Well, separating myself into the person who acts and the observer who writes will hafta do.
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