Michael stared out of the kitchen window and into the darkness. He wished he had told her at dinner, deceit and anxiety were killing him. Nineteen years is a long time. He brushed the volume higher.
He will always have Mozart.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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The water ran hot, vapour swirls carried scents of pomegranate throughout the room. Toni sank deeper as a myriad of warm-flickering lights hissed their disapproval. The pain had gone, the heat of the water maybe? She took a slow, slow breath before submerging her face. Thoughts of Michael raced into her mind as muffled sounds of Mozart played.
Michael stared out of the kitchen window and into the darkness. He wished he had told her at dinner, deceit and anxiety were killing him. Nineteen years is a long time. He brushed the volume higher. He will always have Mozart. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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