The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.
She was 3 when she’d come to this house: too small to be noticed. Easy to ignore. The years since had been lackluster, joyless. Susan sighed. Today was her 16th birthday. Nobody remembered.
Trifecta’s weekend challenge was to add 33 words to the judges’ proffered 33 words . . . moving the story along. The italicised words are Trifecta’s.