Alice’s Room

A short story from 2015, reblogged for anyone who has followed since then.


This is a fictional short story.

Something had caused her to wake up. Through the gloom of misty, wet eyes, she saw the large red numbers on the digital clock. 4:35. It looked like it was still dark to her though, so she was unsure if it was AM, or PM. There was a tiny red dot next to the numbers that signified one or the other, but it had been years since she had been able to see that. She remembered that she had been dreaming. In the dream, she was wearing a summer dress, and putting on lipstick to go to a dance. Then the sirens had sounded, and she never did get to that dance, spending the night in a damp shelter instead.

Alice smiled as she thought hard about this. It hadn’t been a dream at all, just a memory.

She reached across to the table…

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12 thoughts on “Alice’s Room

  1. I was definitely thinking of some of the people you encountered on your job. I especially sympathized with her about her marriage and seeing no alternative. Seems true for many of her generation.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Many of the elderly ladies I dealt with had bad things to say about their husbands. That surprised me at first, until I thought about the strains of wartime marriages, and the unspoken effects of PTSD on soldiers returning after WW2.
      My Mum also had a rather difficult marriage, as my Dad was a philanderer.
      Best wishes, Pete.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My dad was a hopeless adulterer and never was remorseful. I think many of that generation had PTSD but now acknowledgment. I think that accounts for the constant heavy drinking of many of them.

        Liked by 1 person

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