In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Truth or Dare.”
One day she just knew. There was no epiphany, no moment of truth. It was a simple knowledge, like remembering it is your grandmother’s birthday.
Embarrassment? Certainly, but embarrassment of a private sort, embarrassment more akin to shame. This was the first change wrought by the new knowledge. Other changes followed.
She lost interest in food. The weight she had struggled so long to control simply fell away, as easily as if she was taking off her overcoat or stepping out of her slip. She took no pride in her newly slender appearance. It no longer mattered.
When she drove now, she was perhaps overly cautious. No more left turns under any circumstances. If she needed to go left, she would execute a series of right turns, the maneuver not unlike a ship’s wearing. Her speed never exceeded twenty-five miles per hour.
Her caution only increased when the children were in the car with her.
I must keep them safe at all costs, her new words to live by.
