Fiction,  Flash Fiction

Call to Reality for C

A loud silence filled the room. The aftermath of a call was always the hardest to deal with. Her hands were trembling. She was angry, little did she know it was stemming out of insecurity. She sat there hurting, worrying that she had hurt him. Never realized there could be no other end than accepting she is wrong. Maybe she did know on some level. She was scared, scared to face the reality. Her face seemed pale, quite literally washed out from the sweat and tears. Questions pounded her heart, but the answers lay behind layers of serious squabbles. Questions whose answers she knew she might not like to hear. Answers only which he can give, but would rather not. The veil of mystery, the sheer that he wore was hard to miss but never acknowledged. There are the perks of trying to hold together a dying relationship. Dark circles and a little bit of madness engulf the solo crazy still in that ‘relationship’, just like her, fighting for a lost cause.

Panting, sweating she woke up with a start. It was middle of the night, yet again. It felt so real, she was confused. His snores brought her to the present. It was a nightmare, a nightmare that she had lived through for a year of her life. Some damages are permeant, they never go away but they start to fade. But it would be like constructing in a post-war hit place. Fences are going to be high. But she turned and looked at the snorer in the room and smiled. She had gotten lucky, or maybe she wished for him under the falling star. Before she knew she snored away happily.


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