Elena – Part One

Elena entered her clean nondescript one bedroom apartment, successfully balancing the grocery bags in her arms while pulling the keys out of the door and shutting it behind her. These were the tiny triumphs of her life.

She was forty-six years of age and imprinted on her face was a look of defeated exhaustion. Her eyes eluded time’s cruelty by retaining some of their youthful luminosity. Though she rarely spoke she was ever watchful. The world was, to her, something to be privately observed.

By expecting no more of the future than what she knew in the present she found a sort of solace. Her life was defined by a quiet loneliness and the occasional simple comfort.

Elena put the groceries away and walked into her bedroom where she changed into an old baggy t-shirt and a decade-old pair of grey sweat pants. She sat at the end of the bed for a moment deciding what she would watch that night while fighting the urge to numb herself with food…

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