She held her degree and job offer, as she walked home, with a bright smile on her face. Her parents couldn't attend her graduation, but it did not matter to her. The smile on her face grew brighter when her parents arrived from work. Her father was a cobbler and her mother a house maid.
Every written word in this space is my thoughts alone. Do not try to relate it to your life and create a scene in my circles. Believe me, if I wanted to write about someone who has wronged me, I'd write a story and kill that person off in the first line. As grotesquely as possible.
Stop making assumptions. But hey, if the shoe fits, lace up the bitch and wear it!