A Vignette of Imagination: The Walk
She shimmied from beneath his arm as he snored beside her, face pressed in the pillow. Carefully she shuffled off the bed and sifted through the clothes on the floor. Slowly she slid on her panties followed by one sock, and then the other. She pulled her shirt over her head and her jeans around her hips. Tip-toeing into the bathroom she straightened her hair and wiped the smeared make-up from beneath her eyes. She was dying to rinse her face, but feared waking him. She crept through the dark to the front door and pulled on her boots. She slid her phone into her pocket and slowly picked up her purse, hoping her keys would be still for once. She struggled to open the door that sticks only every once in a while. It creaked, she froze, his snore assured her the coast was clear. She quietly pulled the door closed behind her and descended the steps.
Keys in the ignition, and cigarette in hand, she headed home.