The blue skies reminded the older woman of the days when she was relaxing after a days work at the munitions factory. She didn’t know how much she enjoyed going to work until her husband came back from the war. Then she didn’t really believe he came back at all – not her husband anyway.
Different, that’s the only way she could describe him.
Gone the man, who would whisk her off to a dance, insisting she wore a flower in her hair, to the man who refused to talk about her working part time. Her children were at school, and she could make sure the house was in order after work.
The trouble was, like so many other women, she was bored. There was more to life than scrubbing your doorstep and hanging washing on the line. Truth was, she needed more now.
She missed the camaraderie. The sense they were a working cog in the war machine. The lunch breaks sat in the sunshine, with a sandwich, and a tale to tell. Some women were still working, but had to change trades. The men were given first choice in the workplace.
So much had changed, the old girl thought, as she pulled her parachute to, and unharnessed it. The silk floating to the grass, her head still filled with the rush of air. It was a birthday gift from her grandchildren.
She sat on the grass, smiled, and was glad she found the courage to leave him.
Writer Ravenclaw 