“It’s not that it’s comforting, except that it is,” Beth explained to the man sitting across the worn table from her. Her gaze flickered to the wall, searching among the dark wood and glass bottles for something more to explain why she always came back to this place. They seemed just as haphazard as she was. Beth knew she could change things but she didn’t know where to start. But isn’t more supposed to be better?
“So, Betty,” he winked.
Beth stared at the colorful picture of a life she could never understand, then smiled and reached across the table.
I decided to take part in a photo prompt Flash Fiction called Friday Fictioneers. I heard about it from a blog I read: http://elappleby.wordpress.com. It comes from another blogger: http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/