photo credit

Goodbye Beatrice and take the smell of betrayal with you.

Why was it the people who left were the ones Sofie truly cared about? First her own father, then Kat and her brother Timothy. Now Beatrice. If her mother were the one who’d left, she would have danced a jig on top of the Clower Building, looking down from ten-story roof top at the peons on Houston Street.

Sofie took her time walking back to the bordello. Spring, the time of renewal, was now another season of betrayal. The beauty of the pink Mexican Buckeyes and the White Hog Plum trees on her route home were gone. Even the usual Fragrance of Mount Laurel smelled like hot tar beneath revengeful feathers.

Excerpt from my novel, Naked, She Lies

Fragrance– Daily word prompt