1977- a short story

2

Cool things about Lillian and Phoebe's neighborhood: it was near the downtown of their little community in the middle of the prairie. Uncool things about their neighborhood: most of the houses were practically collapsing. Considering other kinds of homes, the ones here were fairly sizable for their price. The catch was the condition of each structure. Most of them were very poor. It was the perfect kind of house for Lillian's family though, bustling to the brim with old and young siblings.

Phoebe and Lillian trained their eyes on the sidewalk below their feet. It didn't matter that they were juniors in high school, stepping on cracks was forbidden. This was especially difficult on the sidewalks they traveled daily, as they were filled with numerous auxiliary schisms.

Their dialogue was meant for each other, despite being aimed at the ground. Lillian was in the midst of laughter when they found themselves at a familiar intersection, looking up from their intricate footwork.

"By the way I thought your thing in lit class was interesting.", Phoebe mentioned before they parted ways.

The second half of walking home was always worse than the first, considering she was closer to her doorstep than before.

The gray of these sidewalk blended with her thoughts to create an overcast setting to ruminate in. Lillian wondered if she was starting to be like that girl in the back of class who always wore black. After today people probably saw her as negative as that girl had been. The rest of her walk was spent replaying that class in her head, changing her words to be more vague, better sounding, more effective. Maybe if she did it enough times, the memory would be changed and she wouldn't have to worry about regretting her words anymore.

The front porch peered at her. Lillian refused to break her gaze with it, as if in some eternal staring contest with the door and the mail slot. Chipped paint made the door look like it was in the midst of an eternal sigh of exhaustion. The faded color was barely yellow anymore and below that layer was a brighter shade of light blue from the previous owner.

Lillian went to combat with the dilapidated entrance, tugging with her whole weight in a desperate attempt to make it budge open. Finally the door opened with a rebellious screech that was oh so loud. Way too loud. It had sounded into the kitchen and off the rusty stove top and up the stairs and through the door of that study neither her or none of her siblings dare enter.