This story is for Sonya’s writing prompt. The scene in the photo is as much outside my experience as a bazaar in Marrakesh, hence the rather fuzzy story.
photo by Clem Onojehungo via Unsplash
She had been going into town since she was a child, so long ago now the memories sifted through a veil of dust and rocky roads, so long ago she could no longer remember why she was there, or be certain of the way back.
She parked the truck, where her father had always parked before leaving her and her brother to amuse themselves while he bought whatever was on his long list from the one store, and stared about her in bewilderment at the strangeness, the bustle and the noise.
She shrank back from the crowds, pale, two-dimensional people who pushed past her, walked through her with a shiver as if they’d seen a ghost and her eyes wandered longingly back towards the road out of town, the dust veil, and the safety of the past.