The Only Way Out

Ajar by Gavin Turk

Above is the photo for this week’s blog hop and below is my story that goes with it. Enjoy!

Mandatory words: parking meter, stomach, olive, magazine,chart

The door placed randomly in the middle of campus reminded Nancy of a profound quote: “The only way out is in.” Pondering further she realized the door stood ambiguous as to which way was in and which way was out. She snapped a quick picture and saved it in her Evernote notebook titled Moments to Ruminate.

Nancy’s tristful mood had her finding deep meaning in everything she saw. Yesterday the words “stone soft” etched into the side of a parking meter caught her attention and trapped her mind in a swirl thoughts all afternoon. Perhaps it was time to sit down and write out what seemed to be bottled up.

Writing was always a therapeutic way to chart unsettled territory within her heart and mind. Nancy hadn’t the desire to compose anything ever since she’d read her darkest secret splashed in the pages of a literary magazine for the world to see. Her best friend had betrayed her, telling the story of Nancy’s life and submitting it for reward. What’s worse, the tale was written as fictional regale, making a mockery of one of the darkest times of her life.

How could she have been so oblivious? All his sweet words, gentle touches, and romantic whims had her unlocking emotional doors and revealing parts of her story no one knew. The intimate night they shared in the isolated cabin by the beach was something she’d never forget, yet what she freely gave in love that night was thrown back in her face with every word written upon those pages. The burn of betrayal reached her core, causing her stomach to churn at the thought of ever trusting anyone with her heart.

He’d offered to share the reward with her, an olive branch of sorts, in an attempt to apologize. The damage was done. The words were permanently penned in publication and deeply scarred upon Nancy’s spirit.

The only way out is in. Nancy mulled the words as she reached into her back pack for her favorite orange pen and leather notebook. She sat in the warm grass, facing the old white door and began to write.

 

 

 

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