Short Story Collection by Anna Pink Mystic

Solitude

"Don't you feel lonely being alone all the time?" he asked.

"I love being alone and I've never once felt lonely," she replied.

🍁

"She told him that she finally has the opportunity to achieve her childhood dream of travelling the world and to put them into words for people who do not have the opportunity to see and feel places they've never been before to imagine and to experience something so surreal. Her friend was happy for her. The day of her departure, he rushed to the train station to meet her for the last time. Upon reaching, he was panting heavily. He scanned the crowd of people holding their trunks and finally there she was, holding her trunks while waiting patiently for the train. He called out to her and she turned around. Then, he rushed to her still panting and wished her luck on her journey across the world. She smiled. Suddenly, the train has arrived, it was time to go. She grabbed her trunks and walked towards the train but stopped right before boarding it. She turned around and smiled at him, he did the same. Then, she boarded the train and left to travel the world," said the little girl in her school uniform while sitting on a high stool.

"What a heartwarming ending" the old woman smiled in her rocking chair.

The little girl pout while curling her hair with her finger in a pensive thought and said, "But that's not The End yet."

The old woman raised a brow, curious, "Then, what happened next?"

The little girl noticed the warm orange light from the sunset pouring into the room from the window, "I don't know yet, but I will tell you the rest tomorrow, it's getting late, " she leaped from the high stool to the floor, "My parents will be worried."

"Of course, it's time for me to close the store too. I know children are a precious gem to their parents," the old woman stood up while holding a wooden stick for support, she coughed.

"Are you okay, Mrs Booker?" asked the little girl.

"Oh, I'm fine. This is usual for old women like me, or should I say old widow," she chuckled, "You better get home, Josephine," Mrs Booker handed her a novel.

She retrieved the novel, grabbed her school bag lying by the door and hurried out of the bookstore.

The road home was quiet. All she could hear were the rustling of leaves on the trees and the rolling noise of someone riding a bicycle passed by. As she approach her house, she could hear noise coming from the inside.

She opened the door and saw her parents arguing again.

"I'm home," she said, but her voice was soon engulfed by the waves of screaming from both her parents. She walked towards her room, closed the door silently and prepared for bed.

As she cuddled up in the sheets, she took a glance at the novel Mrs Booker lent her. The pages were yellow and old. But she loved it, she read a few chapters before going to bed.

🍁

The next morning, as she prepare for school, she could hear her parents arguing again. She grabbed her school bag and walked out of her room towards the kitchen to get a glass of milk.

Her father was sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while sipping his coffee. He furrowed. She could feel his burning stare piercing through the newspaper, he wasn't reading of course. How could anyone, in an environment like this.

Her mother was talking really loudly while pouring herself a glass of milk at the kitchen counter.

"Good morning," Josephine smiled. But she was not acknowledged, instead her father crumpled the newspaper in one hand and slammed the cup onto the saucer
CLANK!
The coffee in the cup splashed out onto the saucer, "That's enough!" he grabbed his briefcase and stomped out through the door.