Signs of Spring – 160 words
We are trapped in a nuclear winter, she and I, our marriage long since rusted over at the edges.
I stand at her door, wondering how much longer I can endure this monkish existence. I’ve know others who’ve turned elsewhere for comfort, for solace, for a bit of human touch.
I don’t want to be one of them.
I raise my hand against this barrier, which, like her heart, might as well have a “CAUTION: KEEP OUT” sign emblazoned across it.
How do people come to erect such walls between them? Two halves of a whole becoming like magnets that repel each other where they used to attract.
There is no hope for an armistice here. Our tongues launch missiles on a daily basis. Our arsenals overfloweth.
The knob turns. A crack appears.
I stare into her eyes, at once familiar and foreign.
“Can we talk?”
Wahoo! I love Flash Friday! As I’m still serving periodically as a judge through November, I’m not eligible to win, but that doesn’t stop me from scribbling down a 150 (+/-10) word story every week anyway – it’s just that much fun! Come join us, won’t you?