Life in the Rearview Mirror

Thank you to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers!

PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers grandson of our own Dawn M. Miller



Life in the Rearview Mirror

I see our cabin in my rearview mirror, where it can’t possibly be.

I’ve flourished, if salary and job status indicate, schmooze, sip dry martinis, flirt on balconies overlooking DC’s skyscape, the sound of sirens echoing like funeral dirges.

On the GW Parkway, trees reflect in mirrors. I see you pleading and remember the starkness of sex on a mossy meadow in blinding sunshine. You always presumed I could never be more.

My boss slides his hand to my thigh. I stare at his furry fingers. His eyes beseech.

My cell shivers: come home.

Suddenly, all I feel is depleted.

Sascha Darlington



33 replies »

  1. Dear Sascha,

    I wonder how many men feel they have to use the same methods to achieve success. I suspect not. Furry fingers made me think of a gorilla. But then maybe she thinks of her boss this way. Nicely done.




  2. An enjoyable and colorful piece, Sascha. Future past and future present, but seriously, the cabin needs some work, although I agree a change is needed. My recommendation would be swapping out martinis for something more organic, say an Islay single malt.

    Liked by 1 person

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