Untitled

Untitled by Barbara Keegan (a Short Story Contest entry)

Alone. Inside. Post surgery. The house is quiet and dark, and so are my thoughts. Dreadful depressing loneliness closes in on me.

Deep breath. Step out onto the front porch. The transformation is immediate. Always cool and shady, the sprawling old oak tree conceals me from passersby. No one ever sees me sitting here. But I can see and hear them - walking, running, biking, driving past. And I am immediately in a brighter place, no longer alone.