I placed my suitcase by the door and draped my jacket over the solitary chair.
Wallpaper peeled at the edges, exposing cracks in the plaster and ironic graffiti; ‘RIP all who enter this room’ scribbled in shaky handwriting. The faded flower motif carpet, threadbare with cigarette burns, almost covered the floor. Only the smell of nicotine unified the decor.
The chair rocked on its uneven legs as I slouched onto it and lit a roll-up in a vain attempt to repress the onset of depression. I pulled the photographs from my suitcase and arranged them one by one. Three smiling children’s faces stared at me but I couldn’t focus through the fog of tears.
About the Author
Daryl was born in Gloucester, England. He still lives there today. He is married and has three children and 1 dog. He works in a local company making products for aircraft and other vehicles. In his spare time he likes to write screenplays and micro fiction. Reading has played a large part of his life. His love of films inspired him to start his first screenplay 2 years ago. This has progressed into trying his hand at prose and lately, micro fiction.