Jenna was leaning against a wall at the edge of a long winded passageway. Her body, obscuring a better half of the passage from the rays of the sun.
My feet were tired from running, and I swear I could hear the incessant terrifying flutter of my heart. It was times like those, I regretted not putting in extra couple of hours at the gym.
By the time I got to Jenna, I was panting, barely able to make complete sentences.
“We’ve been worried sick looking for you!”, I managed after a few moments of getting-myself-together.
Jenna looked up and smiled. I could tell from the redness of her sclera and her stained cheeks, she’d been crying… Again.
I made space for myself beside her. Eventually she spoke,
“This grief, does it- does it ever get easier”, she choked. Placing her hand on what used to be a growing bump, her baby bump.
Staring into the abyss, I placed her hand in mine and let the silence answer…
word count :168. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you @storyteller’sabode for this week’s image.
I know I have been awol this week. I will try my best starting today to get around all the long overdue comments for which I do apologize. And I do miss reading you posts and I’m looking forward to them.