I Write In 2018

My New Home

I bought this home because I desperately needed to belong. Somewhere anywhere. I needed something to belong to me. To root me in place because I was feeling the wave of shiftlessness that comes when you have been discarded by a lover. I had not seen that coming.

Now I was pregnant and needed a place. A place where I could build up a nest and settle into the next phase of my life. That's what I kept telling myself, but I really felt like just falling apart. But I couldn't. I was not alone this time. I had a kid to bring into this world and raise.

I won't bore you with the details of my loss. My partner's decision to skip his rights and trip off to some other part of the country. Well, at least I didn't have to see his ugly mug anymore.... but I can do this.

My house. I needs a little work. Who am I kidding it needs a lot of work. I swear when I look out the front door the telephone pole by the road is leaning at an odd angle.... but only when I am inside the house. Outside it is perfectly fine.

Just last week the kitchen cupboard door came off in my hand. Not the knob, the whole flipping door. But this place is mine. All mine and I intend to work on it. Room by room until it has my stamp… or my blood, sweat and tears. I swear my flood of tears will wash the blood and sweat away. The point is, it’s mine.


Words = 274


Notes ▼

Daily Flash Fiction - due June 3 by 11 pm
Prompt for 6/3 Write a story that includes someone buying a new home.
Inspired by Camilla Gibb's memoir.

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