Write a fiction story in 100 words or less based on the photo prompt. Trigger warning- this short story is dark.
Bad day? Rindango asked, his open palm offering another refill.
I nod, saying nothing.
How could I explain, without opening the floodgates?
Suppressing the steel ball of anxiety wedged in my breastbone way preferable to divulging the wretched hurt and misunderstanding. It’s safer staying distant. Numb. Protected behind a wall.
I dropped my guard once. The do-gooder’s sympathetic response well-intentioned, albeit transient. Too confronting and they walk. Excuses made. Resetting their unremarkable life.
I left normal behind years ago.
So why change now? It’s my problem, my ownership, my solution.
I signal to Rindango. One more for the road, thanks.