Waiting (176 Words)

She’d stared out the windshield for hours. It was raining. She could see the rain running small rivers over the parking deck’s smooth concrete. She was gripping the wheel like she was going somewhere, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

They had agreed to meet there at the Subway in the shopping center. She could imagine his face when he saw her. He would be accusing, bitter, but worse than that he would be hurt. She was tired of hurting him. She was tired of hurting.

She should have been there half an hour ago. He would be gone now.

It was safe.

Somehow that thought hurt worse than anything.

She got out of the car. It was still raining, but she walked quickly, keeping her head down. Inside, the smell of the shopping center was semi-sweet, stagnant but not unpleasant. She walked quickly, looking for the food court. She saw the Subway sign, the mostly-empty benches. It was almost six o’ clock. On a weekday night, the place was almost empty.

But he was waiting for her.


Written in response to Sunday Photo FictionCheck it out!

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