A slender hand of gentle apricot color reaches out to brush the dead flowers. A decorative shell of something once beautiful. She touches the sweet-smelling lavender sprig hanging before the window, and regards the dark glass. Jenny’s slender frame is draped with silk. The soft lace curtains are draped so delicately around the black glass–so harsh.
Breath coming quickly, voice coarse, she says through clenched teeth: “I hate everything.”
A slender hand swipes at the vase, knocking it to the floor. Soft feet delicately step around the shards of porcelain. The door slams shut behind her.
Inspired by Photo Prompt