That old chair

No one knows what became of
her.
She was there. Then she was
not. 
There had been no suspicion
that she even wanted to be other than what they thought they saw.  How perfect she seemed to be, always doing
what was expected. 
A day came when all this
came to her awareness, along with the questions. Unrelenting questions that
stirred deep within her soul.
She grew weary of that old
chair with the worn out cushions, for it had come to represent all the things
of life that she despised; her position, her role in which she played the game
to keep the peace. It was too painful to sit there any longer.
She leaned into that window,
that thin, fragile barrier that was keeping her in…. leaned oh so carefully
until she thought she no longer had the strength.  To her surprise, that thin glass gave way,
and with it all her fears seemed to simply melt.
For a brief moment she sat
on that window sill, taking it all in, breathing that fresh air, feeling the
thrill of whatever was to come. 
And then she soared.
Sharing my photo and words today at Vision and Verb 
“….where a group of like-minded women from all over the world share their passion for photography and the written word.”

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