Folding

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The scent of lavender was overpowering, but she hadn’t slept in days. She left the French doors open on the balcony as she sipped her chamomile tea. Booking this room was the best idea she had in a long time. It removed her from the daily hustle and bustle of city life, and most of all, it got her away from him. He was a high powered executive who made deals and dealt with large sums of money all day long. The only time he wasn’t wheeling and dealing was when he was tired. Then he would whisk her away on trips to Vegas to wheel and deal and make more money to lavish her with expensive gifts. He would toss thousand dollar chips and tell her to buy anything she wanted, but only after he fucked her for hours leaving indigo bruises on her inner thighs.

She took the hope chest out from under her bed, asked the pilot of his private jet to take her back to Vegas, where she cashed all of her chips, left everything, but gained Peace with each sip and every inhale.

© michele mitchell, 2014

Prompt :http://shortstoryideas.herb.me.uk/firstlines.htm

Photo credit: www.pimsleurapproach.com

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