Felicity wrung her wrinkled hands as she peered through the upstairs window. Every afternoon as the sun went behind the house the shadow of the chimney glared at her like a sentinel, ensuring she remained locked inside.
It had been fifty long years. How would they know she had been beautiful before this merciless pandemic struck?
She flung open the balcony door. The railing had fallen off years ago. It was time to jump.
No, no not like that. This was her usual afternoon routine. Her only escape into the garden below. How else did the lawn get hand cut?
100 Words
Friday Fictioneers is a place for flash fiction brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Visit Rochelle’s site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.
The secret is keeping busy. 🙂
That’s for sure. Thanks Sandra!
The claustrophobia, frustration, and anxiety really came through in this.
Thanks for reading Ms Jadeli.
It feels like 50 years already! An excellent take.
Doesn’t it. Thanks very much Keith.
I know FF can get a bit dystopian but this one takes the cake! 50 years of pandemic and lockdown cycles! No wonder the poor woman had gone mad. Cut the grass by hand ? With scissors perhaps? This one really stuck in my head, well done 😀
Thanks JWD! Appreciate you reading and commenting. Yes, definitely a dystopian tale and she did use scissors. How did you guess? 🙂
Oh God, please not fifty years of this!
Love the twist!
I hope not too. Thanks very much Dale!
at her age, she must be really in good shape to be able to jump into the garden. what’s her secret? 🙂
Wasn’t much to do but workout and of course the lawn care. It all kept her fit and trim. Great observation though Plaridel. Thanks for reading!
I guess any routine is the best way through a feeling of isolation. Doing something useful and keeping positive. But alas physical beauty only lasts so long, whereas the inner beauty lasts a lifetime.
Thank you for picking up on that point James. What stood the test of time was her tenacity and willingness to keep going regardless of the circumstances. Appreciate you reading!
Dear Shelley,
Fifty years of this??? No thank you. I’m glad she wasn’t going to kill herself but after all that time who could blame her? Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks very much Rochelle! Thankfully it is fiction. I’m certain it won’t be as long for any of us, though sometimes I’m sure it feels that way for many.
50 years! Please say it won’t last that long. Her lawn must be immaculate though! Nice one.
Thanks Iain. Yes, thankfully this was fiction and it won’t last 50 years for us. Though it was a good time to get her lawn care done. 🙂
50 years yikes… Interesting how humans adapt to their environment…
Haha, I love the ending! That is great. Very imaginative.
Thanks very much for reading and appreciating.
A life shrunk to small routines. Luckily, ours won’t last 50 years