Innocence Ends in Avondale - A Chicago Story
That’s it. That word, it pulls up like a tub stopper in her, letting all the old dirty waters drain out. It upsets her deep in her gut where she buries her heart. The Elston house feels disgusting, suddenly, as if she’s been swallowed by a beast. Doomed to dwell in a place where “utopia” is the exact furthest thing from reality.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?