This slice is part 1 of I’m not sure how many. I know my protagonist has some things to figure out, and I need time with her to decide what that’s going to be. But I’m especially grateful to Fran Haley at lit bits and pieces for providing me with the inspiration to get going in this direction. Thank you!
Her alarm buzzed her awake at 5:10, as it did every weekday. It was tough to shut it off, what with reaching around the giant sack laid on top of her, but she was able to manage. She knew that she’d probably sleep better without that thing – heck, she’d probably breathe better, too – but there was something about the weight of it that felt secure, kept her rooted to herself.
Her burden made a deep thunk as she rolled it off the bed and onto the bedroom floor. She examined its contents to make sure everything was still in order.
Guilt? Shame? Disappointment? Check, check, check.
Hoisting it over her shoulder, she began to go about her day. She had never directly weighed the world, but it was probably comparable to what was in this bag.
She started her way down the street, stooped under the heft of it all. No one really noticed her dragging along, but then again, she didn’t expect them to. Few ever really did. Every so often, someone would say something to her. It would often go like,
“Wow. You really have a lot to carry there. How do you do it?”
“I don’t know,” she’d shrug. “I just do.”
“You’re carrying so much. Let me know how I can help you. Just ask.”
“OK,” she’d respond, perfectly aware that asking was not within her skill set.
No. Most times, carrying it quietly was the easiest thing for all involved.