stuck | wahlia
Winnie was going through her closet, tossing clothes into two piles. The first was for cute clothes that she would most certainly keep for herself, and the second for items to donate to charity, or the less fashionable. Perhaps someone like Dahlia could benefit from my trendiness, Winnie thought, but she immediately made a face at the thought of her nemesis. Dahlia didn’t deserve such lovely clothing. Of course, not all of it was lovely. Some of it had been gifted to her; chunky-patterned turtlenecks, velvet vests, things of that nature. She’d never worn them, of course, but they’d contributed to the collection.
Winnie heard a sound and froze. Who else was home? She’d been so focused on her chore that she supposed Ronnie or their mom was home, and that was all. She heard footsteps and shrugged it off, even though they weren’t the familiar footsteps of her mom or sister. “Hello?” she called out.
@dahliamartins