Smoke

The chill in the air was dissipating and a spiral of smoke rose from the chimney in the old house. It was a thinning, grey spiral of smoke that took on the body of a snake as it coiled its way high up into the sky. At some point, it blew out into nothing.

Ava recalled the conversation from the day before and knew, as she learnt day by day, that each character would betray the other and no-one could truly judge the history of another. It was Sarai, her confidant, that had fallen ill and it was during this hour of crisis that so many things revealed themselves. The 'special groups' of life, that people swore you belonged to, the invitations to join the inner circle and get real close... and BANG within split seconds, loyalties exchanged, affections elapsed and promises bent way out of shape. The blame lay on both sides, as they gave and took away, promised and turned around as if it had no value. Any old shirt would do, anything that stepped across the foothold and most importantly, worked as the work-horse should work. Then they smiled and nodded and accepted and smirked. And who was Sarai? Not the only one that could do the job! Certainly not, as she lay in the hospital bed in a tragic state, 'the any old shirt would do' took over her children and her work projects.