Can't bring myself to

She wanted to cause a scene:

Instead she sat down on the pavement and wept until her soul was rushing down the gutter with the drain in sight. The rain kept beating down and repressed the minute traces of hope she had left. His words rang in her head: ‘If you want to be happy, you have to give up hope and faith; there is no other way.” Drenched to the bone she observed her scooter, the water just slid off the body with droplets exploring the crevices of the seat. She was late beyond redemption. And just like the ignition refused to fire up as the heavens opened; she hadn’t the energy to continue even if she was burning to make a scene.

She wanted to cause a scene:

But she was wearing an elegant evening gown and something about her attire explicitly forbade anything of the sort or remotely related. It simply was not  permissible. They stood staring at her knowing that she was not the type to keep silent on matters this pressing. She tallied her options – none particularly whetting her appetite. She took a deep breath and instead of causing the scene she bitterly wanted to, she raised her head, straightened her back and turned with such force that her gown swirled and snapped back mid-flare when their stares rested on her bare back. She did the unspeakable and left her perfume lingering in the ballroom air.

 

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Barb Black gave me this prompt: She was tempted to cause a scene…

I gave kgwaite this prompt: You’re sitting next to a roaring fire and the cold rain is thumping down in front of you. Tell us a story about what happens in the space between these contrasts?

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