I’ve been absent from Friday Fictioneers–for too long! Janet Webb’s photo (below) prompted me to write the following story.
I awoke, once again, in the wee hours and trudged to the bathroom. This time, there was no snoring, no raspy breaths. The darkness outside my window reflected my feelings. Salty streams flowed freely as sobs wracked my body. I lifted the soft chenille from the robe hook, buried my face to dry the tears, then wrapped it around my shoulders, trying to feel the warmth of the arms that once encircled and drew me near. I slipped to the other side of the bed, felt for a pulse, and dialed 911. Then I knelt by the bedside and waited.
To read more 100-word stories from this creative group, or link your own, see Friday Fictioneers.