A woman of her own right. 55 Fiction.

There were so many things she could do.  She could punch him.  She could yell at him.  She could cry.  She could beg him.  But none of that was necessary.  It was too late.

Looking him in the eyes, a woman of her own right, she said, “good bye.”

Gathering her bags, she walked out.

[N.B.] Wow.  It has seriously been a long time since I’ve written a 55 fiction story.  But it looks like I might just be writing some more now!  I sure as hell missed writing them.

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