Flash Fiction: After the storm

Flash Fiction: After the storm

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It was July 17, how can I forget that day. After a week-long raining spell, the roaring of thunder paused, clouds parted and rays of sunshine flooded us with their warmth. Dressed in a floral patterned gown, a silver head-scarf and my most valuable possessions packed in a medium-sized traveling bag, I stood… Waiting.

A new dawn awaited me, us, one under no circumstance I was going to let slip out of my fingers. We were going to be happy, start a new life somewhere. I’ld look for a teaching job while he’ll start a garage. Our own fairy tale, one we had planned out and thought we deserved.

17th July, 5.10pm… The tears, staining my pancaked cheeks. The train hooting, grazing the rails with its iron tires. I hoped, prayed, envisioned him running with his suitcase screaming, “I’m here now”; but he never showed up. Oh how I wished the train sounds could flutter away with the broken pieces of my heart. It tore me apart because deep down- I wasn’t surprised he didn’t show.


Word Count: 175 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you to “the storyteller’s abode” for this week’s captivating picture.

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