PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Sheldon
Afterwards, Peter sat on the edge of their bed, staring at the desk, the spot on the corner of the room Danielle had commandeered as an office after her redundancy.
‘A new start,’ she’d said, ‘working for myself. About time.’
It’s only now he sees the cup of straightened paper clips, reams of unintelligible notes, the writing spilling onto the wood, the scribble of her mind.
‘Time away,’ the doctor had said, gaze dropping from desk to bed to floor. ‘That’s all she needs.’
The hospital form shimmers in Peter’s hand, his own guilty signature blotched with tears.
That’s it from me for a while – no internet for two weeks. I hope to be back by the end of the month, so happy scribbling all!