Wednesday Stories: Sham

Sham had been an architect because she wanted to create things that were permanent and unmovable. She had just divorced from her husband, now everything felt like paper. She had long learned that even buildings were being replaced, and so were people. Now she wasn’t an architect, she wasn’t someone’s wife, she wasn’t sure what she was anymore. The freedom to be whatever she wanted, felt heavy. Surely someone her age, in her late thirties, shouldn’t be obliged to reinvent herself? Sham laid down on her bed, in this huge apartment she now shared with noone. She thought about how things were when she was 25, how stupidly nervous and serious that girl was. Silly as she was, Sham had achieved things for herself – before they were lost – these things meant something. This knowledge, of her strength, would at last be the only thing she would ever need.