Her touch is like a morning summer breeze. He opened the window at the break of dawn every day just to remember what it felt like. Cool fingertips sliding softly across the back of his neck as she passed behind him. A slight tug at his hair as she would twirl a piece between her fingers. A plate of breakfast placed on the table in front of him, silverware clinking against each other.
She was never able to keep her hands warm.
The hallway was void of her laughter. Something was always funny - she was in on a joke that no one else knew. It would bounce off the walls, making the air lighter.
It was heavy now. Unbearable.
The walk to the bedroom weighed on him all day. His eyes would settle on that stretch of hallway. He tried his best to imagine what her laughter sounded like again, bouncing off those walls, filling the house, filling his head.
His ceramic mug crashed against the cheap metal of the kitchen sink. The water ran across the large chip on the mouth of the cup. Day old coffee poured out, mixing with the onslaught of water. He watched it circle the drain.
A gust of wind had rain soaking the window sill just above his sink. He gripped the edge of the counter, stretched, and slammed the window shut. He could try again tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
lovelorn: a series of micro and flash fictions
Romancea series of my micro and flash fictions based around love and loss. each chapter is a different fiction, with different characters, all with different life experiences.
