”Can I help you?” ”Sorry. I grew up in this house. I was reminiscing.” ”Wanna come in?” ”Better not.” ”Not all good memories, eh?” ”My mom died in the living room.” ”Wow.” ”Don’t worry; she’d never haunt a place.” ”Wait, what?” ”Then again, I was 6. I didn't know her that well.”
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Replying to @MicroFlashFic
1) I always love reading your mini-stories. You have such a vivid imagination
This story struck me in particular because it took me back to my childhood home, where my own mother committed suicide. Yes, I am sad. Yes, I am angry. Yes, I am bitter.2 replies 0 retweets 7 likes -
Replying to @_weeeeeeeeeeeee @MicroFlashFic
2) But it has been ten years since that day. I have learned to cope with the sadness, anger, and bitterness. I have learned that everyone has their own path to take. Even mothers
1 reply 0 retweets 2 likes
Replying to @_weeeeeeeeeeeee
I’m glad you’re finding your own peace. Hang in there.
5:10 PM - 22 Sep 2018
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