To Ypres

Thank you to Rochelle for another year of Friday Fictioneers! Click on the link if you’d like to join in.

And thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone who comments. I have not been good this year about reciprocating but I fully intend to be better next year! Happy Holidays!

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

To Ypres

In the sitting room they lingered over tawny port as the fire blazed. Miriam’s hand trembled as she sipped, careful in her gaze. The tears came and went, and she only looked on him clear-eyed.

Henry filled his pipe with much attention, trying to quell his own trembling fingers.

“When you come home, there’ll be much to do,” she said.


As he glanced away, she stared at his face. All the sharp angles, the slip of a mustache, his glacial blue eyes. Her heart clenched.

“I love you,” she said.

“Now, now.”

Her palm cupped her swelled abdomen, praying.


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