Deserted.

I remember a jacket tonight.
    Tonight, I take the cement boulevard. I can’t remember the last time I did this.
    I don’t like the brightness of the street lamps. I don’t like the way my footsteps reverberate across the lane. It’s a thudding reminder that I am still not Dahlia tonight — I’m just Claudia.
    And, tonight, that really annoys me.
    Jack has been gone for three days now. The tree-lined path is too creepy to walk by myself and tonight I stop waiting.
    I swing — alone. Missing the scent of smoke that I loathed, I lean back and looked at the moon, glaring from the sky.
    Is this punishment, I ask. For trying to befriend Lola again? Are you punishing me for fraternizing with a heathen?
    But the moon, in its arrogance, doesn't answer.

The End

3 comments about this story Feed