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“Laura’s Nightmare” Her paces were small; she could hear the loud crackling of the rubble as her weight balanced on it like a rocking boat, walking slowly one foot after another. She could feel the fresh cold breeze and the warmness of the caring sun on her face. She started hanging the black wet aprons. She hung them one by one on the thin rope hanging by two cold metal gray posts on opposite ends. It was held in the middle by a large old crooked piece of wood with sharp ends, scratched and weathered like if it had been broken out of what it once had been. It was amazing how much of her life she saw reflected in it. She sighed; her thoughts were loud and deep, spreading out to every inch of silence that was once only broken by the chirping of the birds. She could feel a pressure on her, a stare … her mother. She could see her without even bothering to turn around, her great green eyes piercing through the back of her neck with the power of her majestic glare. She turned around, picked up the broken laundry basket and headed back to the house. She entered through the screen and its loud screeching sound it let out as it opened. Her mother, holding a cigarette to her mouth stood tall, the flowing of her once bright a