Too many things slammed in those ugly buildings. Too many voices raised. Why had she come here? "It's your bed, now get on," she whispered.
A gargantuan effort moved one leg towards her home, but the rest of her body went so limp she fell; felt the short wheat pinch into her thigh. Unable to retreat or advance, she wept.
It was only supposed to be a short walk, and breakfast would be late.
~ Fiction inspired by Andrew Wyeth's Christina's World ~
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