Stumbling along the street. he tried to make sense of it. Everything was a blur, like raindrops had covered his spectacles, but it hadn’t been raining. His world was out of kilter, unfocused and obscure. How could they have known?
He reached the intersection between the two main roads. Shapes flew passed in both directions. He staggered out between them. It didn’t matter to him if he was hit by one of them. It was what he deserved. Car horns blared.
He saw the headlines they would write about him. He felt the shame. He could never face those he loved again.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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