Flash Fiction: The good don’t always hide

Her feet hurt as she teetered down another backstreet.
Tears from her eyes still sopping down her face.
Her mind wrapped in a ball of indignation as her feet stumbled and her knee grazed sober Ground.

There she Lay silent and imprisoned by gravity on the empty backstreet. Beeping horns of taxis echoed from another street but nothing was coming her way. Her eyes stared into the lights of the capital, a city where she was always captive in grief.
Red hands ripped through her loyal handbag, ‘‘Always you stand by me’’ she murmured as she searched for help. Her brain engaged but her phone found her.
The number to call she did not know; her life, her calls had all gone unanswered.

She rose up her head as she heard steps. Someone was approaching her.
‘‘Answer Answer please god answer,’’ she whispered
Step. Step. Step..
Till standing over her
A voice said ‘Hello…are you okay’’

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