Post 1630. Sunday February 11
Her application was successful. Today, a new job complete with accommodation.
Having packed her few possessions into a bag, she looked around the room where she’d led her solitary existence. Empty drawers hung open, the bed stripped. An old grey television, her only companion, sat on a crate in a corner beside a lank, stained curtain hanging limply across a grimy window. The only sound, a drip-drip-dripping tap.
A clunk echoed down the murky hall as she closed the door behind her. She called out a last goodbye to the seemingly invisible people who lived their quiet lives behind closed doors.
Stepping over a heap of junk mail scattered across the crooked doormat, she opened the door to a new life beyond her grim chamber of loneliness.
A shaft of sunlight welcomed her; a ray of hope, a sign of better things to come. A lady walking her dog smiled, baby in a pushchair waved. A gipsy woman peered from beneath her scarf, winked and pushed a bunch of lucky heather into her palm.
Something bright and shiny caught her attention in the gutter. She picked it up. I was a lucky charm. Her lucky charm. The one she lost many years ago.
Word count 201
This week’s photo is provided by J Hardy Carroll.