Jane sits in the reception area, her face a mask of pre-interview eagerness, mentally rehearsing everything she’s learned about this company.
If she crosses her legs, she can hide the crease in her slacks. Living out of a duffel doesn’t allow for ironing much. She eyes her blouse cuffs and wonders again if the frayed edges are obvious, whether rolling them would look too casual.
Even her good-luck almost-leather portfolio, cradling her resumé, looks frayed. Frayed, like her heart, her very spirit, after so many years of trying and failing. How many times can you try just once more?
Every week at the Ranch, Charli Mills hosts the Rough Writers and Friends flash fiction challenge. This week’s prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about something frayed. This vignette is from The Life and Times of Jane Doe. Follow the link for fun flashes from other writers.
The cue took me immediately to this Stones song, from Exile on Main Street. Seeing the photos, it’s hard to feel sorry for anyone exiled to the rock star lifestyle in the Nellcôte mansion on the French Riviera, but it can be hard to remember is that even those who appear to have it all are struggling with something. The lyrics remind me that no matter how frayed we get, there is always something to keep us going.