It guaranteed revitalized creativity if she followed a few simple steps. She retrieved her phone and thumbed to the eBook she’d been obsessing over. She refused to be the cliché thirty-something that ran home whenever life became too real. If her fine art career were really over, she’d wait tables before she’d let that happen. Most of all, she wanted to avoid the barrage of concerned questions, the offer of money they didn’t have, the I-knew-that-art-degree-was-a-mistake lecture, and worst of all the suggestion that she could move back home if she needed to. Not that visiting her parents was awful or anything, she just didn’t want to have to explain why she was there. Barring any surprises, she’d have the whole day to herself. There were no other cars and the house was dark, all according to plan. Mid-morning sunshine filtered through the trees promising a bright, spring day. Nicole parked her car in her parent’s drive and killed the engine.
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