Today I am linking to In Other Words prompt
“Dreaming, afterall, is a form of planning.”
Gloria Steinem
and to Six Sentence Stories prompt
Change
She worked long and hard to make her dream come true. She had been unwilling to make any change in the plans and schedules that she made carefully and in detail every step of the way. Many times she would cancel plans she made with friends and usually didn’t make it home for the holidays, birthdays or reunions. So often she broke dates with the man she loved and hoped to marry that one day he said goodbye and never came back. Everyone thought she was living the dream she worked so hard and sacrificed so much for all those years. But she knew the truth, she was living a nightmare of loneliness.
Image: pixabay
Before she went to the lawyers office for the closing of the sale of the house she and her niece went for a last look around and in the attic they saw a trunk that Goodwill hadn’t taken. It was heavy, but the two of them got it to the car so she could take it home to use as a blanket chest in her room and as a nice reminder of the old man.
One day when I was about three or four years old I told my mother I was going to runaway and never come back because I was mad at her. She said okay and good-bye, seeming not at all upset that I was leaving for good which probably made me even madder. I knew I was going to a field a couple of streets away because it was next door to my boyfriend Joey’s house and I liked his mother and I was pretty sure she would feed me. So, off I went carrying my suitcase with clean panties and jammies in it, my teddy bear, Guy, and a bucket, wearing corduroys and a poor-boy shirt, Buster Brown shoes, and my bathrobe. I didn’t get far before my Big Brudder Bobby saw me walking down the street, and furious with our mother for letting me runaway, he came running and with hugs and assurances that he understood why I was running away he convinced me to return home with him. Later when asked why I was wearing my bathrobe and took a bucket I explained that I couldn’t reach my coat in the closet so wore the bathrobe that was on the bed and the bucket was for me to use as a potty so the weeds in the field wouldn’t tickle my butt.
Patricia's Place 
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