Falling to Pieces

She came home and flopped onto her bed, burying her face in the fluffy doona. 25 reports to write may as well be 2,500. Kim had started the year in her true organised fashion; new stationary, colour coordinated filing systems. But as the meetings and PD’s filled her calendar, and her personal life fell to pieces, report writing and portfolio assessments were the first, most lethal fatalities.

She could pick up the pieces, she always did. Perhaps the loss of him as a distraction was a blessing. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, even before the thought played completely through her mind. How could he do this to her?
There never was an appropriate time to break someones sellotape heart, but right in the middle of assessments was too much to bare. She knew it was pathetic to play the victim – but surely it was harmless in the privacy of her own head.

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