Alison, planted her elbow on the table, sobbing, her hand across her lowered brow, she scoured the floor for answers discarded there.
John yearned to take her close, hold her tight and decant all her stress into himself.
He leant forward, peering under her tumbling hair, searching for words to ease her mind.
He’d kept away to make things easier but, Fate had scorned his efforts, their efforts.
Unwittingly, his hand had strayed to within a hairsbreadth of hers, across the table. Neither withdrew nor could they dare cross the final barrier. A spark now would weld them together forever.
love
Chapter 10 – Always Something There to Remind Me
Thoughts of guilt and despair crashed through her mind. Radio and daytime TV offered no succour. She needed to get out. She’d take her Kindle and treat herself to a cream tea.
Idling through town, woollen hat and scarf wrapped against the cold, she found herself outside the Diner. Remembering the music, milkshakes and good times, she regretted she couldn’t enter; John might be there. Head bowed, she hurried by. The doorbell tinkled as she stepped into the café, unwinding her scarf.
John looked up from a table, “What are you doing here?”
“Avoiding the diner,” she groaned with resignation.
Chapter 6 – Remember me in Roses
John watched her stumble down the road, her shaky hand fumble the key. He waited until the door closed behind her.
Slowly he edged his car from the kerb and coasted silently down the narrow street. He didn’t know where to go but, home would be too soon.
He drove to a park overlooking the Christmas lit town, pulled a CD wallet from beneath the passenger seat and selected, Janis Ian’s ‘Have Mercy Love.’
Crackling fireworks chattered across the sky, interspersed with resounding, robust explosions.
“When love goes boom, it’s doesn’t work, if one of you hides from the blast.”
Chapter 4 – I Saw Her Again Last Night
“You talk about love and my Stuart, but never mention Amy.”
John smiled, “We’re OK together.”
“But do you love her?”
He stared into the dashboard lights.
“Well?”
“It’s something that’s been taxing me, can you love two people? Are there degrees of love?”
She looked at him with consternation, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Love drops on you. Suddenly you’re consumed. So what was it before? A lower level of love?”
Alison caught her breath, “And what you have isn’t enough anymore?”
“How can it be?”
“Stuart’s a fine man, he doesn’t deserve this.”
“Does that make him enough?”
Chapter 3 – Time is on my Side
“You could have called him to fetch you.”
He turned the ignition, The Stones blared from the radio.
“He’s probably in bed.” She left the excuse in the air, he didn’t question why that would be a problem.
“You don’t mind do you? It’s on your way.”
“I’m happy doing anything for you,” he smiled.
“Don’t…” She turned her face to the window as though suddenly finding the terraced housing infinitely interesting.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. He pulled up short of her house.
“Why did you come?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “I shouldn’t have.”
Chapter 2 – When the Night has Come
PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma
Alison fled into the evening. Her tears splintering the glare of the neon signs, she lifted her arm to a taxi she hadn’t the money for.
It sprayed the shimmering lights of a puddle at her as it passed. She watched the shattered reflections reform.
The bus-stop timetable affirmed her last chance home had departed.
“My husband is enough,” she told herself.
Through the window, John was at the jukebox buying more shared memories.
As she approached him, Ben E King pleaded, “Darling, Stand by Me.”
“You came back,” John said plainly.
“Could you…?” she faltered, “…I can’t get home.”
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.
Chapter 1 – Que Sera, Sera
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
John tapped a record into the jukebox and sat down.
“Recognise it?”
Alison smiled, “We shared our first milkshake to this.”
Her hand idled across the table to touch his. As though suddenly discovering its wandering, she jerked it back.
“Are we going…?”
“We have a choice?”
“But my husband…?”
“If he’s enough…”
“My vows…”
“…promises, morals, all pillars of society’s grand architecture.”
A tear hit Alison’s cheek.
“But love is savage; it roils like a tornado scorning man-made structures, flattening everything,” he said.
“With victims crushed beneath the debris…I must go.”
As she hurried away he called, “Enjoy your Christmas.”
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.
Michael Wynn 