This week’s Trifecta Challenge is to use the word ‘infect’, with the meaning ‘work upon so as to induce sympathy, belief or support’. Visit http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/ to see how everybody else did.
Anna has a smile that can light up a room like sunshine pouring through a window on a spring day. Sorry, I mean had. I need to get used to saying that, now that she’s gone. She had ocean blue eyes, and the sweetest laugh you ever did hear. She was so gentle, and kind, and had beautiful auburn curls. That’s how I picture her, when I think of her, with her hair tumbling about her shoulders, not with the tie-dyed bandana she always wore towards the end. That was hardest for her, losing her hair. Hardest for me, was losing her.
I love the way her eyes lit up when she was playing with our old cat. I love how she’d only eat sandwiches if I cut the crusts off and cut them into triangles, I love that she’d only wear pink clothes, but most of all, I love that she was mine. She was my world.
I infect people with misery everywhere I go. I know I do, I can see it in their eyes. I don’t even have to say anything, it just seems to seep out of me, out of my pores maybe, working on them, attacking them, making them hurry away from me after asking how I am. I know I’m a pathetic sight with my red eyes, and unwashed hair, and my old shabby coat.
I walk a lot, and think. I see people in cafes ordering cappuccinos. I see people returning library books, or catching the bus. I see children playing on swings. I see people living. And how do I feel? Broken.