“Sure.”
“Do you… love me back?” you finally asked, eager for closure.
“I’m sorry, Angela.” I sighed. “I do not share your affections.”
The mayor’s home was a place of many decisions. Here, I broke a heart.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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This was a place of decisions. In grander times the hall hosted affairs and persons of state. Tonight, it was only us. Capiz windows and calados illuminated the cold, dark room in silvery moonlight. You covered your face in agony. A ray reflected off a teardrop. You were fumbling with words. In a hesitant hushed tone, you began. “Can I... ask you something?”
“Sure.” “Do you… love me back?” you finally asked, eager for closure. “I’m sorry, Angela.” I sighed. “I do not share your affections.” The mayor’s home was a place of many decisions. Here, I broke a heart. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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