Connecticut Authors and Publishers

A Literary Community Learning from One Another

 I held my hand out to the boy and we were laughing. We stood at the side of the lake as the sun glinted on the water, making the surface like something alive, jumping, stirring witht he promise of fish and frogs and other small creatures. I pushed my toes deeper into the sandy bank, hesitating, knowing full well that the water would be too cold for swimming. Spring had just begun, the blush tipped blossoms barely covering the trees, robin's eggs still tucked away in their nests and still I held my hand out to the boy. He was beautiful and he was laughing. He was smiling at me. I prepared to jump with both feet, tensing my muscles.

 I was on the train. I stared out the window at the houses and buildings rushed past. To me, the rain drops on the glass were the tears of some abandoned woman, some hopeless widow residing in the heavens, comforted only by the light of the celestial bodies. 

"I'm gonna marry you." He'd said.

"I'm gonna marry you." But he couldn't marry me now. He'd been stolen from me. The earth held him close now in my place. The cold fingers of the grave would caress his face. The cool wind of death would whisper to him in the night. He'd never be mine again.

Views: 18


You need to be a member of Connecticut Authors and Publishers to add comments!

Join Connecticut Authors and Publishers

© 2020   Created by Peggy Gaffney.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service