Sitting at the table

There were times when she thought her little brother was nothing but a pest.  Then as they got older, that little brother became the person she needed in her life.  Ben was stable.  Ben was the guy who was always there.  And when their mom died, Ben kept everything together.

Karen sat at the table, running her fingers across the edge.  She fumbled with her pack of cigarettes.  She knew she couldn’t smoke inside, but for the first time in her life she felt deeply alone.  She wasn’t sure what she was doing at the bar so early in the day on a Wednesday.  But she was afraid to go home, afraid to go to work, afraid to do anything.


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