so this one is 58 words to make up for yesterday’s 300. It all averages out in the end. 😉
Urge for Going
In December, two days before Christmas, you left me. All that remained was a note. “It’s not you, it’s me. I can’t go on this way.”
It’s May now. My black dress hangs on a frame attenuated. The ground’s thawed. Time for burying winter dead. Grief resurges.
end
Sascha Darlington 4/20/2018
In Rutland, Vermont, like many extremely cold winter places, winter dead are buried in spring after the ground’s thawed, giving the survivor another mourning period.
Brief and desperately sad.
https://iainkellywriting.com/2018/04/20/r-is-for-rome-italy/
Great flash/micro fiction! Spring is good. 😊