Written by Sonora for the game Snap Shot, Writing Prompt #15
It was dark out.
She crossed the street, walking quickly through the emptiness and stepping over puddles. The neon shop lights danced rainbows across the wet roads, shining off the surface oil.
It was cold today, but the rain had stopped. Shouldn’t have brought the umbrella. But she had–one less hand to grab or run or punch–one more thing she needed to bring back home.
Nana wanted everything back, or it would come out of her salary. Ha–salary. Don’t need to worry about ever getting out now, at least. Blood on the sheets. Cold tea. One too many spoons.
Little things add up.
The signs had been optimistic and full of hope for a better dawn. But signs had begun to mean nothing. Everything was a lie–even words spoken from mouths. But I guess it evens out–lies are both better and worse than the truth.
Here she was again, lying through lips she wasn’t born with and blinking through eyes with coloured contacts.
“You promised more,” they narrowed their equally false tattoed eyes, making the piercings wrinkle on their forehead.
“Bring it up with Nana, then,” she said, clutching the clear umbrella tight between her fingers and offering the money in her closed, gloved fist.
“Then it’s time for a message?”
She crawled home, abandoning the umbrella and clutching her wrist to her chest, trying to hold together crushed bones and keep the blood from staining her jacket. Salary–ha.
At least when you accepted it, working for Nana was predictable. They were nothing but errand girls–expendable yet loyal–costing nothing but earning Nana her bed of pearls.
Or maybe that was a lie too and Nana’s bed was on the floor in the attic.
Lies could be good and bad, piled up as high as the trash in the streets. Maybe the only difference between Nana and her was that Nana knew when she was being lied to.