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(Daily Prompt: Narcissism / 100 word challenge)

She wept.

He kept to himself and only engaged in the niceties of life, but nothing more than that. He locked her out of his interior life. She’d been softly knocking at the door for years.

Yet again, he threw back the door and cut her down with indifferent criticism. He’s right, she thought. I don’t know who he is.

Out on the deck she took her medication. She drank a glass of wine and reflected on the surf, the setting sun, her fifth glass of wine. Narcissism. It was her fault.

It was all shutting down now.

She slept.

Author: lisabarkerauthor

Indie author. Writes contemporary/drama/women's fiction.

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