“It was a night like this when we met, remember?”
Roumina used to rub my back when I started reminiscing. She would be silent then, as she is now.
“A humid June night. You asked to bum a cigarette.” A pained laugh escapes my lips. “Back when we thought it was cool to smoke.”
Warmth trails down my cheeks.
I curl my fingers in the dewy grass, longing for her fingers intertwined with mine.
A breeze swirls around me and I know she’s near. Untouchable, unreachable, but with me just the same.
Photo prompt & featured image: © Dale Rogerson
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The above is my 92-word fictional story. Each week, writers are offered a photo prompt, from which we are challenged to write a complete story, in 100 words or less. Then we post, share, comment and critique with dozens of other writers. Click the blue frog button to find more stories, and join in!