I can’t save you, Maggie lamented. Every time you stick that poison in your arm, I die a little.
‘Please stay’, Ian begged.
‘Get help, and rediscover your spark. If you do, maybe I’ll come back.’
‘Don’t go!’ he wailed above the din of the airport concourse.
She unwrapped her fingers from his, and ran to the plane that would take her home. Speechless and broken, Ian watched her go.
Strapped into her first-class seat, the flight attendant placed a glass of wine in Maggie’s shaking hand. As the plane taxied and became airborne, she let her tears flow.
100 Words/Genre: Lost Love and Romance
Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. It is an honor and a privilege to have Ms. Rochelle critique my work. Please be sure to go to her page and read their stories too. We are a rather eclectic group and the genres run the gamut.
I welcome kudos and criticism. Seriously, rip it up if you want.