Dead ends

‘I love you,’ Eddie slurred.  ‘I swear, honey.  I mean it.’

‘She hates me, Eddie,’ Charlene mumbled back.  ‘My own daughter.  She hates me for being with you.  She hates me for being me.’

‘Ah, come-on, love.  She’s just jealous.  Of us.’

‘She wants to go and live with her granddad.  She said she’ll go to the social.’

‘Ah, god.  Look, I’ll have a word with her.  Try and talk her round.’

‘No, no, no.  Leave her alone.  She hates you, Eddie.  She hates us both.  She hates the drink and drugs and ciggies.’

‘Like any of us have choices.’ 




A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.