From my soon-to-be-released Short Stories for the Soul: “Turning Point”             Sophie cringed at the smell of medicine and reached into her Louis Vuitton purse for her Eau de Cartier. She sprayed a bit on her neck and wrists then hesitated in the doorway. A curtain shielded the bed. The lights were off, and the TV loomed silently.             She gripped her purse handles tightly with her right hand, mindful of the bandage around the scrapes on her swollen left hand. Her nail polish remained remarkably intact.             Deep breath.             What would she say? If he were asleep, she could…