Sadly, Sarah looks out over the water and listens as the gentle waves lap at the shore like a kitten lapping up the remnant cereal milk in your bowl.  When did it all get so complicated?  Has it ever not been?  She shakes her head and looks into her coffee cup as if tea leaves would appear and she would suddenly, miraculously know how to read them.

The sun was rising in the sky, the temperature rising with her anxiety.  She was leaving in a few days and she had accomplished nothing but to upset all of those around her.  Why couldn’t she just get along, or at least, just go along?  Why must she always make people uncomfortable?  She always had, she reflected, from the time she was a kid.  She spoke her mind regardless of the situation and feathers were often ruffled.  It was a curse.  It was a gift.  It was confusing.

Sarah pushed away the notebook in front of her and took a deep breath.  It was meant to be a cleansing breath, but it was shaggy and sputtered on its way in and out.  She had been at the lake house for over a week.  During that time she had managed to alienate her mother, argue with her older sister, and frustrate her sister’s husband.  She may still be on speaking terms with her aunt, but she couldn’t be sure because she had been taken to the hospital just the other day, further proof that old age is not for sissies.  Her father was blissfully unaware of the wake of havoc that followed Sarah everywhere she went.  This was quite possibly an advantage of old age, that every day is literally a brand new day, with no carry over from the day before.  People frequently commented to Sarah that she said what others were thinking and that they appreciated that.  It was meant as a compliment, but it always bothered Sarah.  Why do I have to jump on that grenade?  Why can’t you mewling simps stand up for yourselves.  Ungracious? Yes.  True?  She thought so.

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