You may have noticed that I haven’t been at Friday Fictioneers for a bit although it’s one of my favorite places to be. I felt like my writing had dried up. I don’t know whether it’s back or whether circumstances brought this story to me.
As always, I thank Rochelle for bringing us Friday Fictioneers, many thanks.
I went to the bar, seduced him, despite my former proclamations. Yesterday a part of me died and I needed someone, anyone, and he was always available.
He cooked up his breakfast, none for me, ever, made a mess, left. Dishes in the sink, stains on the stove.
I think of my old dog, the one I set down yesterday, how he followed me everywhere, and loved me with liquid eyes. My heart emptiness after the doc injected him. How I held his paw, felt life ease away.
The wind shears. I bite my lip, hard. Toenails echo on hardwood.