The sweat dripped off of her forehead, onto her lap, her panting began to slow and the shaking had eased, her legs were throbbing still and who knew how they would feel in the morning.
She caught her breath, and started to remove her cardigan, she was hot and she couldn’t remember the last time that she had walked at such a pace, she had been practically running, her arms swinging, feet pounding the footpath and all in time to the thoughts racing through her mind.
When she had left her house, she was angry, upset, frustrated, disappointed and repentant, now after 45 minutes of walking like her life depended on it, her thoughts had slowed, she was less angry, more disappointed, reflective and had a brighter outlook.
But it was still there, all that pain, confusion, hurt, it was still there, just pushed to the back, right at the back to join all those other times.
The only evidence left was another brick in the wall that she was slowly building, the wall that kept her safe from all this pain, the wall she could hide behind, the wall she put up for all to see, a wall that was strong, solid and unrelenting, a wall that could withstand any weather.
EDIT: I feel compelled to add a comment here, after having just read the other five sentence fiction pieces, I really just jumped in gung ho style. I should have checked out the other links first! Now I am intimidated and want to retreat back into my fictional closet..but..this is a year with no fear and no regrets, so I will aptly resume my composure and promise to do better next time. And Welcome :)