Sasha knew she shouldn’t spy. Yet she was hidden within a pine tree, wrapped in warm hat, scarf and coat. Her head hurt; no more tears left to shed. Bare hands pulling back branches so she could see. To confirm what her gut told her. In dawn’s orangy light, with thermos of coffee, she drove to their park, hid by their bench. Stomping her feet, blowing on her hands, she waited. She heard lilt of laughter, saw hands held, gentle then fervent kiss. She closed her portal on the world of his new love. She closed her heart forever.

© Lorraine

Writing in the raw for Bikugurl’s 100 Word Wednesday, week 9.   Image Credit: Toa Heftiba. Not in quite the same romantic, optimistic mood as last week.

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