Well, hello there. It is Thursday and I have a story for Friday Fictioneers. We gather each week to tell stories of 100 words or so according to a photo prompt. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Anyone can join in if so inclined. Here’s my 100 words.
It was a long ways down. Her hair fluttered across her face. The moving traffic below made her dizzy. She pulled back from the edge, stumbling. Her heart caught in her throat and she had to bend over to catch her breath.
Tears streamed down her face. She was not good for anything. No brains. No looks. No money. No courage. How was she going to face everyone, anyone? She was such a failure. Now what?
She stood and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. An anger rose in her. She had, still has something after all. Her stubbornness.