#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...

yellow lighters, plates and cups where all in here room when i took my eyes of the painting.

why couldn't i remember, was it the trazadone making mefog up?
Was it the the food i had earlier in the day.

shaking my head i sat down on the bed and sighed

this could only have two outcomes.
the first being that it was stolen and I had committed a crime of theft.
the second I had simple bought it or
it was a gift from my mom.

standing up I walked towards my dresser, looking into the mirror I could see her within myself.

her funeral had been hard since no one could face me and I had sense the awkward enegdrift around thank goodness I had my books and my boyfriend Ryan.
© Ann Doerwald