Clive pitched forward as the wheel hit the curb. The mirror showed glitter behind him. Now his only glitter was left behind. Back when the bills were paid. A wife with a diamond ring, a lover in her shimmery red dress, a sparkly “Mom” on the memorial wreath.
Clive had run, beginning a new start. For what success? A dark apartment with candles for light, not glitter, and an unpaid electric bill.
Everything was quiet, except coffee perking on the gas stove and an earworm, “Silent Night,” A Star sparkled through the misty street lights, signaling Hope, a Gift for Christmas.
Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle https://rochellewisoff.com/ a 100-word story prompted by picture also by Rochelle – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For other stories from different perspectives visit the green frog on Rochelle home page.