The Breakdown
It happened at Target.
Diapers, paper towels, almond milk.
The list was short. Her breathing was not.
The lights buzzed too loud. The cart wheels squeaked like screams. And suddenly Mara was on the floor, palms pressed to tile, heart sprinting toward some invisible threat.
A stranger knelt beside her. Asked if she was okay.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
By the time Alex arrived, she was curled against a display of toilet paper, shaking.
He wrapped her in his arms.
“We’re going home,” he whispered.
And for the first time, she didn’t argue.
Leave a comment