Roused from sleep, Daphne finds Randall standing on the balcony in the drab of first morning light. Observing his distress, she rushes to his side. Falling into her arms, he shatters to the floor. Tumbling with him, she holds on for dear life.
“It’s those damn nightmares isn’t it?”
“God dammit, they never stop.”
To quell the tremors, she hums softly and cradles his head in her lap. He repeats the horrors he’s seen in combat. Finally spent, he wraps his arms around her.
“Do you hate having to placate me?”
“No Darling, only my love will silence your demons.”
100 Words (Genre: General Fiction (I think.))
Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. As I state every week, please critique the hell out of my story. Punctuation, story line, genre. You name it, criticize it. It’s okay to tell me if it’s shit.