Bridget hated it here and nothing was going to change that. Her mother had explained it all to her and it’s not as if she didn’t understand. Of course, they had to go where Daddy got work. Isn’t that why Bridget had had to start over in six different schools in five years? They always acted as if it was such a sacrifice they were making for her but no one ever asked if she wanted to move again.
And for sure no one had asked her if she wanted to live here.
What’s so bad about this place? Her mother sounded more and more like Mitzy used to sound.
What isn’t so bad about this place! Thinking about Mitzy always made Bridget itchy and sad.
The park was her only salvation. Back before they’d moved here Bridget had had miles of open meadow just at the end of the street where she could walk and not think. Here she had to make do with a few wooded hills and a pond but at least out here she could usually be left alone to not think in peace.
“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”
Scratch that left alone bit. She stared straight ahead willing herself into invisibility.
“You’re gonna get sick sitting out here in the snow, you know.”
The old lady clearly didn’t know what she was up against with Bridget. Settling herself more comfortably on the bench, Bridget continued gazing out onto the bit of open water on the pond where three ducks circled.
“Ah, it’s like that, is it?” The old lady cackled and one duck flew off.
She plopped herself at the other end of the bench and pulled out some old lady thing, crocheting or knitting. Something with string. Bridget ignored her and pretended the remaining ducks could understand her telepathic ravings about how adults would never get it through their thick, stupid heads that it’s ok to leave a kid alone.
Her phone buzzed silently in her pocket. That would be Mom. Screw her, too. Screw every damned person who decided things for Bridget without even so much as a check-in. Screw Mitzy for running off with that woman on the motorcycle she met in some bar. Screw Daddy for being a high-priced consultant who helped greedy pricks leverage and then liquidate iffy acquisitions (remaining silent gave Bridget quite the education on dodgy financial dealings even if she didn’t quite understand leveraging and liquidating).
“Well, it was nice meeting you.” The old lady was standing up to go. “See you here tomorrow?”
© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved
In August 2020, AleXander Hirka set himself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image is that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to his Mom and the concept was Time. In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.
Read AleXander Hirka‘s version here: