Good Faith, 6th April

Just felt this had to go up again.

quirrk

Sheila sat on her phenomenally tiny bed in her extremely tiny room, thinking of the ever so tiny lifespan she had lived and the not so tiny mistakes she had made.

She couldn’t care less about her accommodation as she was caught between the cobwebs of making right her mistakes, not of room selection but of something a little more voluminous, relations.

As she held her phone, which was currently the centre of her respiratory system, trepidation seethed into every inch of her being. She had to get it right this time.

So far, they were accepting her apologies better than she dared imagine, they actually seemed happy to know she loved them and that was something new to her. Her heartbeat relaxed just a little as she was wrapping her head around handling the next person.

She was in a tight spot, she wanted him back in her life…

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