Jake’s Diner

Rochelle has hosted Friday Fictioneers for 8 years and I’m pretty sure that in blogging years that must be what, a quarter of a century? Haha. Anyway, I haven’t been a part of it for that long, but I’ve very much appreciated the years that I have participated. It’s certainly helped me grow as a writer and I’ve met some wonderful people/writers as part of it. Here’s to many more years!

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Jake’s Diner

Something was wrong. Noncommittal responses. Averted eyes. He was done. I was mortified, incredulous. Wasn’t everything wonderful? As close to perfect as possible?

“Meet me at Jake’s,” his text said.

We’d met at Jake’s. Fitting we’d end at Jake’s.

I wore black.

Sliding into a booth, I ordered coffee.

When he arrived, my stupid heart skipped.

“Hey,” he said.

I pressed my shaking hands under my thighs.

“MaryAnn, you are my sun, moon, life . . .”

I frowned.

“Marry me?”

The earth shook, cups rattled.

“It’s not the big one,” he said.

“Says you.”

It was for me.


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