My Way
How rare it is for someone to truly be able to choose their end, with a clear mind and dry eyes.
This thought tumbled clumsily through Maureen’s already cluttered head as she made her way painstakingly up the flight of stairs. There was blood, dark and slippery, on the soles of her boots and every step just reminded her of all the times she’d thought about investing in carpet covers or some kind of textured tape strips to provide better traction than the polished wood had to offer on its own. She had always put it off as something to do on a weekend where there weren’t quite so many things demanding her attention, and eventually it had been too late.
