A quick search of the kitchen and pantry revealed that cupboards were nearly bare. The home was in such disrepair that she wondered if she would end up whisked away to Oz if a nor’easter hit. Her clothes were nearly rags… I doubt my clients really care about my attire…
“This isn’t life…”
Clara’s normally iron grip on her emotions broke entirely. As tears began to stream down her cheeks, she grabbed a shawl and huddled in the corner of her childhood home.
The room was bare, the contents likely sold off or burned to keep warm long ago. While she had a bed, Clara could not fathom returning to it… I’ll never feel clean again…
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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