Rachel stood within the forest of department store coats, trying not to pay attention to fabric colour.
Overthinking had already dragged her away from the shoe department; she needed to refocus her efforts on buying a comfortable pair of flats.
Stepping into an aisle, she spotted an unmoving salesperson. What a treat — someone available to help! And maybe before getting directions back to footwear, she could find out about that jacket.
But knowing her luck, the salesperson was from another department. Why’s she standing there, unmoving and silent?
The mannequin, for its part, wondered why it was being stared at.
Story Old — The Silent Treatment
Photo by Omid Armin on Unsplash
Ah jeez, not again. The silent treatment. Why was it that no matter how hard he tried, all he seemed to get from her was The Silent Treatment (capitalized because she was just so good at it).
He tried hard to contain his frustration, which just made him more frustrated. He knew she was doing this deliberately, knowing the silence would push his anger ever higher. What had he done to deserve this? He had no clue.
“Fucking god damn fucking mother fucking piece of shit. Siri!”
Siri couldn’t hear a thing — the microphone was broken.
Links to other sites where I publish:
Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com
Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories
YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva
And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess
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