‘I won’t drag you down,’ he said in quiet anguish.
Her world slowly shattered into pieces.
Each shard etching its memory in blood.
His strength dwindled to emptiness in a twisted world.
Her heart froze.
She remembered, she knew how to forget.
Mirror /mɪrə / Noun
a surface, typically of glass coated with a metal amalgam, which reflects a clear image.
Picture Courtesy: flickr.com
maybe subject to copyright – labeled for noncommercial reuse
He emptied the vial into his mouth, his features transformed into a familiar face. And then another. One by one. People she knew well over the years, loved dearly.
‘We’re programmed to love a certain kind of person. That’s absolute.
Names? faces? Those are random.’
He walked out of the door, from her life.
Physics /ˈfɪzɪks/noun
the branch of science concerned with the nature and properties of matter and energy.
Piercing grey eyes, mop of brown hair, boyish smile. Striking ink-blue T-shirt.
And a lazy afternoon.
His arm almost around her waist, not touching her at all.
She steps a little closer, shy, confused.
His eyes never left hers that day on.
And she never stopped smiling.
Love /lʌv/ noun
a strong feeling of affection.
‘Norman’s here,’ she heard Nora’s calm voice behind her.
‘Famous author. My husband,’ thought Lisa with some affection.
The couple graciously obliged the frenzied photographers.
Lisa smiled as he sat next to her, watching the distant Kowloon skyline.
‘Hmm. I gotta check on that pasta,’ muttered Nora, adjusting the shoulder-strap so Norman could be comfortable.
Having two heads and one body was complicated.
The beach lights were colorful twinkling specks down below, she could no longer hear the music.
She blinked, trying to see his face behind the wispy night clouds.
Blue eyes. Curly mop of brown hair.
‘Hmm, so Mr. Moon is a tall handsome romance-novel hunk! Wait till the girls find out!’
She floated free as she weightlessly exited the Earth’s atmosphere.
The old man whistled a cheerful tune as he gathered up tiny purple balloon bits strewn across the sand. He looked up at the clear morning sky, shielding his eyes against the sun.
Picture Courtesy: https://www.flickr.com/photos/137789813@N06/22951791215
He was strong, kind, sensitive.
‘You don’t deserve him. Make him hate you’
Her inner demons came alive, he held her close.
She picked up her cellphone.
Cruel words imprinted forever on a chat window.
His eyes were empty.
Her wounds bled again.
Picture Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons
Long sensuous fingers caress the horse’s mane
I watch, unable to tear my eyes away.
He leans closer, face inches from mine, whispers huskily
‘Coffee?’
I blush.
A little girl calls out, ‘Daddy?? Mommy needs you. Bridle’s broken!’
I’d rather drink Tea.
He’d left her.
And she’d slumped on the couch for days, lifeless.
Today, she washed her hair, removed the wedding ring.
Attended theater, learnt salsa.
She found out it was a matter of choice.
To live, laugh, be happy.
Even when alone
Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at Addicted to Purple
10th July, 2015
Photo Prompt – ©Stephen Baum
“Angie, it’s best that we don’t prolong his suffering,” said my brother gently.
A freak accident, and my Gerry lay in a deep coma, surrounded by strange tubes, hooked to monitors that beeped. The doctors said there was no ‘hope’, and it would be ‘practical’ to turn off life support.
I wouldn’t let them.
I need you. I am pregnant. You must come back. For me. For our baby.
I whispered to him. Every day. For six months.
Later, he said he remembered seeing a bright light. And hearing happy laughter.
I always knew it wasn’t his time to die.
____________
Word Count: 100
I lay in bed, exhausted, burning with fever.
A crash of pots, pans.
“Darling, omelette, dry toast. We ran out of butter,” he grins sheepishly, handing me the tray.
Then, he looks at me, eyes like smouldering embers.
I am in love.
Participating Entry – YeahWrite #221 Microstories Challenge
Prompt:
Answer this question in exactly 42 words
“How Hot Is It?”
Stilettos And Soundbytes 