Would Somebody Please Comfort Me!

She sat in her usual spot on the curb of a dead-end steet in a town long ago forgotten by time.  Her disheveled hair reflected what her life had become.  Her dull eyes and her dirty, tattered clothes gave anyone who passed by an excuse for not stopping to help.  To comfort.

The Prodigal

“I want my share of the estate,” the boy blurted. Mariah and her husband exchanged quick glances.  The older brother stopped with his hand midway to his mouth.  Mariah asked, “But why?” “Because I’m leaving, that’s why,” he, said, keeping his eyes fixed on his father.