The candles were burning, casting a soothing light around the living room. The TV was on, providing some kind of background noise with a show she had just began watching. The dryer was tumbling in the next room and a pile of laundry was waiting to be folded. It was a typical Monday night. Just that. Nothing more and nothing less.
With the memories of yesterday still clinging to her skin. And a small patch of pride where embarrassment often hides: no units of alcohol in ten days. No cigarettes in four months. Being told that she looked young twice in two days.
As every Monday night, she was alone; waiting for the hands of time to turn and turn until it was time to go to bed.
Good night sleep tight
reflections of an unquiet mind 