That Summer (A Flash Fiction)
The mango appendages now bent like those of a Christmas tree. She wished its Christmas, for every Christmas they say “wish and it will be granted”.
No, it was not Christmas.
Yet a renewed gust chilled her skin.
“Marc,” she whispered. “Speak to me, for heaven’s sake, speak to me Marc.”
But he did not.
All she could hear was inhaling and gasping. She put a hand to her mouth. She thought she might scream but nothing came out of her mouth.
Fear of the unknown, she kept quiet. The numbness of her hand glued her lips shut.
And, yes, the shame. That silenced her, too.
What happened up there in the small room was memorable yet very heartbreaking.
No one said a word.
No one dared to.
She could only wish for Christmas – a Christmas miracle.
NaPoWriMo Day 27
For kate Friday Fun