Where did she go?

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No one knew where she was going.

If they asked Lina, her weather-beaten face lit up with a smile, exposing the newly formed wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. She had lived on the same street for a long time, and nothing was a secret in the neighborhood. Nothing except Lina's whereabouts at the start of the weekend.

Every Saturday, like clockwork, she would take out her bicycle and ride in the morning with a mysterious square package.

The neighborhood had their own theories.

Mrs. S from three doors down was sure that forty-year-old Lina was having an affair with a married man from out of town and she was happy for her. She wondered when she'll find someone, as she looked at her husband struggling to clip his toenails as his beer belly got in the way.

Ms. D, the spinster from opposite the street who watched too many police procedure shows thought Lina was delivering drugs for lots of money and she disapproved except she wondered how much money was in it.

Mr. C, who was the romantic kind, thought Lina visited the grave of her beloved with his favorite food and talked to him. He was jealous of her for having a grand romance as he looked at his staid companion of thirty years dozing off in an armchair and snorting quite unromantically. He wiped off her drool and smiled. Love is a very contrary thing, he thought.

Ms. R, the teenager from next door did not think about Lina. Anyone above the age of twenty was not of interest to her as they were too "old".

Lina peddled along the tree lined road, away from her home. She kept cycling for an hour before stopping near a well-manicured park. There was no bicycle other than hers in the stand. As always.

She walked leisurely and sat down at the roots of the big tree in the corner of the park and opened her package.

A felt covered book with a fountain pen shone in the sunlight. Lina smiled, and started writing.

Mrs. S opened her wrap around dress to reveal a bright red short jumpsuit, as she looked at the tall, dark, handsome soldier running towards her.
Meanwhile, Ms. D caught sight of them and gasped. Mrs. S looked towards her, terrified until her eyes alighted on the packet of white powder in Ms. D's hands. They nodded at each other in silent agreement.
Ms. D heaved a sigh of relief and wistfully exchanged the drugs, thinking that she couldn't offer the juicy gossip to anyone. She was walking back to the street in deep thought when Mrs. C came towards her and grabbed her hair.
"Ugh what is with you?" the spinster shrieked.
"I know you're having an affair with my husband."
"What? no, never." Ms. D tried to get her hair free.
"Why do you sneak around? I saw you get so many deliveries? presents no doubt. aaargh I'll kill you."
Mr. C looked at the dramatic scene with love, just as Ms. R ran at them with an axe...

Lina wondered if she was being too dramatic about her quiet neighbors.



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5 comments
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A delightful exercise in perspective, @diebitch. You pull the curtain back and show us what is on the other side. Thank you for posting this amusing story in the Ink Well community. And thank you for engaging with other authors.

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I've seen this done in cinema. A switch in perspective usually is accomplished with a break in scene and sudden transition. You do it well here, without the benefit of camera. Our challenge as writers is always to make readers 'see'. Our words are the camera, and you use them well.

This story is a moment snatched out of one neighborhood, but it might have been snatched from thousands of neighborhoods. We all sit behind our curtains and wonder about others. We weave stories in our heads based on nothing but conjecture. These are harmless speculations but also windows into our own lives. We project onto others what we see in ourselves.

Good job here.

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Really like this story, @diebitch. People are so judgemental these days. You really captured that, while doing a great study of small town life and differences in perception.

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