MOVING ON

September's prompt is MOVING ON.  FLASH FICTION, POETRY, NON-FICTION, PLAYSCRIPTS, ARTWORKS, PHOTOGRAPHY...all welcome! Treat the prompt as you wish!

1. SUBMIT your name to the Inlinkz list below NOW if you wish to participate
2. CREATE your entry according to the monthly theme - September - MOVING ON. 
3. EDIT your entry until it sparkles
4. POST your entry on your blog on the date shown - Check out the clock on WEP which is set to Brisbane, Australian time. Post on September 20 your time. Remember to state feedback preferences (full critique to general comments) and whether your work is copyrighted - © 
5. READ other entries, giving feedback as requested

Open to all genres - Fiction works can be - Adult, YA, MG. All entries maximum 1,000 words.

HERE IS MY FLASH FICTION:

MOVING ON

Roslyn shook out a tablet in to her hand.   She regarded the single white pill and added another.  A pair of innocuous looking tablets nestled inside her palm, inbetween her heart line, head line and life line.  She tipped the bottle once more, another four tablets spilled out of the bottle.  She clenched her fist shut, her manicured nails dug in to her palms.  She took a deep breath and reached for the glass of red wine sitting on her dining room table.

With her free hand she gulped down the red liquid, felt it burn as it travelled down her throat and reached her stomach.  She emptied the bottle on to the table, the whiteness of the pills strikingly brilliant against the dark wood grain.  She stared and stared at the mountain of round tablets, she reached for one, she reached for two, her hand shook as she raised it to her mouth.

Angrily she swiped the tablets off the table on to the floor and poured the last remnants of the bottle of wine into her glass.  She glanced again at her silent mobile phone as she sipped her drink pondering on how near she came tonight to ending it all.  

Roslyn’s tears began to flow down her cheeks; she started snuffling, she moved towards her bedroom and flung herself down on to her bed as sobs racked her body.   She gulped air trying to draw breath, hugging her painful ribs to her sides trying to regain control of her emotions.

Minutes or hours must have passed, it all seemed the same to her.  She must have dozed off at some point because she awoke with a pounding head as the sunlight filtered through her bedroom curtains.

Her eyes were sore and swollen, her ribs ached, piles of crumpled paper tissues were strewn all over her bed spilling over into a mess on the carpet.  She grabbed her phone from the bedside table, still no messages, no missed calls, no voice mail.  She flung it against the headboard in frustration. 

What was it with her and men?  Why couldn't she keep a relationship going?  Her friends trotted out the well worn clichés, you can do better, his loss etc. etc.  That was all very well but they were securely ensconced in their relationships and marriages.  They didn't understand how she felt.

Her phone pinged and she ran back to her bedroom.  Disappointment flooded through her body, it was a text from her best friend to go with the others she’d been ignoring for days.  She was possibly the only one that would stand by her, even after the stupid thing she had nearly done last night.

Roslyn smiled, Sarah always said the right thing at the right time.   Roslyn squared her shoulders, took a breath in and texted back.

Sarah opened her door and Roslyn fell in to the biggest hug ever.  Her friend was cuddly these days but happy, no longer a svelte size, she’d survived a failed marriage and was now enjoying love a second time around.  If only Roslyn could find that first husband she’d be more than happy.

Sarah’s husband poured out the mugs of tea and then discreetly disappeared in to the kitchen where they could hear him pottering about with pots and pans.  Very soon the tantalising smell of roasting chicken started to permeate through to the lounge.

Roslyn saw Sarah’s face turn pale as she described the events of the previous evening. 

‘Why on earth didn’t you ring me?’ demanded Sarah.  ‘You know I would have come and got you.’

Roslyn explained the depths of despair she was feeling.

 ‘Oh Roz!’

The tears threatened to spill over again as Sarah put her arms around her friend again. 

‘You do know what you are doing to yourself, don’t you,’ chided Sarah as gently as she could.  ‘You are an attractive, intelligent woman, a professional who holds down a fantastic job that you excel at.  You work hard all week and then let yourself down emotionally.’

Roslyn nodded in shame, dabbed her eyes with a tissue and blew her nose. 

‘Crying isn’t very ladylike is it?  I must look a right mess.’

Dan, Sarah’s husband peeped into the lounge and quickly scuttled back to the kitchen.  He’d let his wife deal with tears.  He didn't do tears very well, especially somebody else’s tears.  He’d peel more potatoes and vegetables because he could see this wasn't go to be a quick visit.

Sarah was firm. ‘So, your next step, Roz, is to get some help.  I don’t know what to do to help you.’

Roslyn nodded in agreement and vowed she would get professional help when she got to work on Monday.

The trio sat down to a wonderful meal, the first proper food Roslyn had eaten in over a week, a few more glasses of wine were consumed, then Dan and Sarah waved goodnight to Roz much later in the evening.

Three weeks and many text messages later a very different Roslyn turned up for coffee at Sarah’s house.   The first tentative steps to recovery were being taken and, as Roz explained to Sarah, there were deeper issues to resolve than just this broken relationship.

Her main priority would be working on not being somebody else’s victim.   She had to work on her self esteem, her own self worth and not fall in to the trap of using her past to cloud her judgement of herself.  She couldn’t change the past but she would no longer allow those events to define her life.

Sarah’s words came back to her time and time again, ‘your head knows what you have to do; you just have to wait for your heart to catch it up.’

So, come on heart please, for goodness sake, catch up with my head and let me move on.

 Word count: 983