Just look down. He will go away. He has to go away.
"Sally?"
Just keep looking down. He will go away. He has to go away. He always goes away.
He says hello. I say hello. And then we...uh...hello. And then he is gone. No kiss goodbye. No you look beautiful in the morning. No do you want to grab breakfast. No I will leave her. No I only love you.
"Sally?"
"Oh, hello," I say, looking up, but still feel down.
"Hello," he smiles in a way that makes me wish I didn't get out of bed this morning,...
It was picture day. Mom took us all to the park. The whole family, I mean. It was her, dad, both sets of grandparents, all 8 great-grandparents, my sister, my brother, his kid, and all our aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and third cousins and their dogs and cats and kindergarten teachers. There were 63,293 of us in all. And mom had us all wear the same thing: blue jeans and red shirts.
We all gathered under the shade of the mighty elm and then the photographer took the picture. She had to take 37 shots to...
The people in the cafe continued talking as I stood to look at the door. Still not here. I glanced at my watch. Dash it all, I was going to be late to my meeting. He would not be getting dinner tonight, oh no. My husband wasn't one for standing me up, though...whatever. He's not here, and I have to go. I walked out of the cafe, jogging down the stairs and out. What I saw I will never forget. My husband's car and another one in flames down the street, an obvious car crash. My heart stopped then started...
When I was twelve, I went to sea with my father. My mother had protested out of worry saying that I was not yet ready for the trials of life at sea, but once she had been persuaded to allow me to go, I went with excitement behind my eyes and the song of the gulls ringing in my ears.
I remember the very first time I set foot on the deck of my father's small sailing ship. I instantly fell in love with it. The clear blue waves, the crisp air, and the reflections in the polished wood...
She told me never to open my mouth, never to talk. She said I am nothing, no one, and not even a mere object. But I did, I gave my self an excuse to talk, as I bulleted down Quincy Lane, and ran into the cemetery on North Boulevard. I walked over to the tombstone that represented what ever life I had. What ever excuse I had to be a happy person. For the next hour, my teardrops fell on the stone. And quietly, under my breath, I read the words engraved in the stone.
IN REMEMBRANCE OF TOM E....
I did it just like they told me to: I jumped. Well, that was stupid. I jumped, I hit the ground and never got up again. But, then again, they don't care. They never even looked to see me land. A piece of advice, kids: don't jump. I don't care why you're thinking about it, where you are, or what you think they'll give you for it, you're gonna lose something. For me, I lost everything, but then again, that doesn't matter.
He embraces me and I smile.
The cheat!
Just to make this good, I even rest my head on his chest. Deep breaths to make myself seem calm, even when anger and hurt course through my body.
"How was your weekend, Honey?" The question in casual as I run my fingers through his hair. He kisses me and says, "It was alright. How about your's?" I kiss him back and try not to think about what I'm about to do.
"It was fine. Oh, I have something to show you." I reach into my back pocket and show him the...
The results were in. Now all I had to do was decide whether to go and get them. They wouldn't tell me over the phone, despite my rather pathetic begging. It wasn't done, it wasn't their procedure. It had to be done face to face.
I doubted that good news would have to be done face to face. If it was good news surely they would have said, "It's good news, you don't have to worry any more, you don't have it."
Because that was easy. I would be delighted, of course, and the person on the other end of...
In a flash, he appeared in a busy unfamiliar street. He looked around saw people milling around various open market stands selling knickknacks and various food items. He could not focus his auditory senses to make out the language spoken around him. He stumbled forward.
His clothes were unfamiliar, people brushed passed him with disregard. He looked down at his clothes and did not recognize the ensemble. He glanced at his reflection from a shop window and did not recognize the person.
Confusion and fear sets in. He suddenly felt light headed and could not catch his breath. Fear and...
It was the same old lie it always was.
"The day after tomorrow, this will all be over."
Of course it would. And tomorrow morning, someone would say it again. And the day after that. And the day after that.
Tomorrow may never come, but the day after tomorrow? Not a chance. Not a glimmer of hope.
The days all ran together anyway, here - there was nothing that set any one day apart from another. The air would be thick with tension, the trench would be cold, somebody would get injured, another would die. It was the same every...