She always looked towards the house.
No matter how many times she tried to avert her gaze, or how she told herself 'Griet, don't you dare look at it', her eyes always ended up glancing towards its large and imposing structure, and she was sucked into memories that she desperately tried to push towards the back of her mind.
Why couldn't she just let go?
She absentmindedly reached a hand upward, balancing the basket on her hip as her nails grazed the earlobe that once held the pearl earring that caused such controversy at the time.
Memories, fond and not fond, entered her mind, and she shook her head and headed back towards her husband's booth at the market place.
It was not time to be lost in such thoughts.
(It never was.)
I absolutely adored this book when I read it last summer, so I decided to write a small story about the after story of it.
I don't own Girl with a Pearl Earring.