Ficlets

Marie

The woman in the alley looked cold. She wasn’t wearing much. She was sitting sort of in a puddle, but the whole street was sort of a puddle, so it wouldn’t have made much difference if she moved over.
Black makeup was smoky and smudged all around her eyes. It looked like yesterday’s eyeliner and the day before, unwashed and piled on. The whites of her eyes stood out against the black and her eyes darted from side to side until eventually they just fell to the ground.
Everything about the woman screamed destitution.
Just then footsteps approached the dejected figure.
“Marie?” said a sweet voice. The woman’s eyes darted up.
“Marie, we have been looking all over for you! Please come home. It doesn’t matter where you have been, it’s never too late to come home.”
Marie looked up at the nun and laughed sickly. Her laugh was sick with both weakness from the disease and the cynicism that the world had given her.

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