A step backwards (fiction).... A short story

Phot credit by @wakeupkitty

Mary fidgeted as she fumbled with the bunch of keys to her apartment. She managed to grab the bunch just as it was about to hit the ground a second time. She eventually singled out the key and inserted it into its lock, giving herself a pause as her heart beat erratically. "Soon Sandra, her only friend in town who stood by her always, would come looking for her, and she would be forced to break the door open to be shocked by the suicide note she had left for her." Mary thought to herself. The memories of rejections from society and the workplace, with the ever-piling bills, had choked her to depression, luring her to wish for death as her escape from all the weights she bore.

Dusk was fast approaching as she struggled to hasten her dragging steps towards the distant horizon overshadowing the "Gate’s" bridge, where she intended to jump from. The bridge was huge and lonely, especially when it was dark. The seven-minute walk to the bridge seemed like an unending journey. Her darkened spectacles hid her reddened and teary eyes as she briskly walked through the market square. Her ears picked faintly at a distance Jorge’s song of "Don’t Give Up," which drew her closer to the musician who passionately played his violin.

Mary stood there transfixed as she drew into her being every beat from the violin. A strange ease flowed through her body, rendering an incomprehensible calm to her tensed mind and flooding her with an inestimable peace. Mary let out a deep sigh as she removed her spectacles to wipe the tear that almost dropped from her eyes with a kerchief. She squeezed her hands into a tight fist, trying to suppress further tear drops, and slowly turned back towards her house. Her legs felt more weakened as she dragged them, contemplating her decision to give life a second chance at living.

I see a Violinist and he's playing for entertainment or for the money. People would stop to enjoy his music