You were faithful when you first kissed me and for ages afterwards, but I saw it coming. I even measured the months it took. You’re with her this very minute, now. I know who she is. I see you, and follow your glances.
When you tomcat back to me, I smell her on your skin. You whisper my name as if it makes up for everything, like it washes off her scent. It doesn’t. I listen to my name as it falls from your mouth, let my senses cloud over and count the syllables, checking each letter and nuance is correct before saying your name in return. I taste her on your lips but smile back anyway, concentrate on the now; I’m happy you’re here with me right this second. I hold onto it, hold on to you, press my ear against your chest and hear your heartbeat. I feel it, your heartbeat. It’s physical and real.
I do all that, do everything I can but I can’t ignore the chill of your wedding ring. It’s cold against my bare back, refusing to warm, no matter what. Ever louder, my bedside clock ticks like a bomb, calling time.
FlashFlood is brought to you by National Flash-Fiction Day UK, happening this year on 27th June 2015.
In the build up to the day we have now launched our Micro-Fiction Competition (stories up to 100 words) and also our annual Anthology (stories up to 500 words). So if you have enjoyed FlashFlood, why not send us your stories?More information about these and the Day itself available at nationalflashfictionday.co.uk.
A great flash piece, Cath!ReplyDelete