SPF: The witness

Written for Sunday photo fiction.

Photo courtesy of Colby Renee

Mary knotted her fingers together, so she didn’t bite her nails. The doors stood open as an invitation for her to venture outside, but something held her back. She wasn’t a prisoner in this house but it had been a long time since she had gone there. Mary took a deep breath and tried to make herself relax.

The trial finished and the people who threatened her when no longer anything to worry about. When the guilty verdict was given there was a great deal of anger directed towards her. Police had assured the woman she was safe but something in her head warned that this wasn’t the case.

Paranoia the therapist had called it.

Sunlight shone through the door, willing her forwards. Eventually, she stepped into the light I looked around the neighbourhood which had once seemed so safe. The shadows seemed so deep, but she made herself walk to the edge of the street before swiftly running back to the safety of the inside of her house.

Small steps.

By the end of the week, it was the goal to make it to the end of the block. One step at a time.


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