Her mind was raw, her body bone-weary, and the rushes to believe the scandals, even from whom she thought of as friends, was too much. She could hear their whispers, spiraling the layers of supposed secret truths. They landed light as a feather on her shoulders but left a permanent non healing scar.
The Bag Lady 
Excellent! Loved your take!
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Those kinds of friends aren’t really friends!
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