Alison stood before the sink, clenched her fists and pressed her nails into her palms. She scrunched her eyes tight until they watered. She tensed every sinew as if in hope that when she relaxed, the world would be different.
She needed a drink of water.
She hated herself. She hated John, she hated Stuart, she hated his disease and she hated that they both loved her and most of all she hated that she loved John.
Stepping back from the sink, she stood astounded at her thoughts and that for the first time, she’d admitted the truth to herself.
A tale of love and conscience written in 100 word chapters. If you wish to read prior episodes go to the category, “The Whole of the Moon”
“I can’t do it, he needs me.”
Alison hesitated on the doorstep, quaking at the rigour of her own rules.
John inserted his key almost apologetically. Amy greeted him, hair towel-turbaned. “There you are.”
“I feel devious, dirty almost.”
At the diner, they sat on the same side of the table.
John lived a hermit’s life for two days, wandering in thought and body. There was time and distance between them, but love doesn’t recognise such obstacles.
John drove, his thoughts out-spinning the wheels. He didn’t like what he was doing, the cruel pressure exerted on the girl he loved.
Alison rushed for the door, the atmosphere in the café suddenly heavy and humid.
Her eyes widened at their clasped hands.