Iron

Pressing down as hard as she can on her industrial sized Iron, Sally casts a sardonic grin to her neighbor who is glowering through the steam.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” Wendy huffed, blowing a stray hair out of her eyes. It fell back into place.

“Nothing really. Just trying to feel better.”

Wendy howled at that.

“I heard that just smiling can improve your mood.” She sneered back at Wendy. “I need my mood improved.”

“I’m not sure that’s smiling. What’s wrong this time?”

Sally clenched her jaws. The news she swore she’d take to her grave bursting up through her chest. “Johnny spent the rent money.” Sally seethed, sobbing on the word again.

“Bastard!” Wendy pressed down her iron.

Wendy was a sympathetic complainer. It was her only saving grace. Though it made Sally complain a lot more which wasn’t really doing her any good, but it did feel wonderful to have the pressure of her reality outside of her body. She was still oozing a little from her confession.

“Sally, you’ve got to start hiding the money from him and lie through your teeth or you need to get away from that man.” She shook her red face, looking more pissed off than Sally actually felt now. “You can stay at my house. Seriously. Some day you’re going to have to say ‘enough’ and you’ll need someplace to get your head together. You can do that on my couch.”

Sally turned away to hang a pair of slacks on a hanger, so no one could see the tears that stung her eyes. She breathed in the steam around her.

“Thanks.” Sally nodded. She hung the pants next to a dress.

 

It doesn’t have to be good. It just has to get done. You can fix it later.

About the author

Carley Hibbert

I just finished writing my first novel The Villain's Assistant. I'm preparing to submit it to an interested publisher.

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