Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

but, still (or the magic door)

Susan felt like a fool. It was 1977 not 1957. My god, she was a liberated woman! How could she fall for his line?  

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Remembering. Champagne. His voice in her ear. “I can’t tell you where I’m going but meet me here on Christmas Eve.”

Stupid!

Did she think she was Deborah Kerr in some kind of Hollywood movie? She should go.

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Remembering. Laughter. Sparkling blue eyes. “This’ll be our magical place.”

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Waiting. Till she heard those whispered words: “Hey beautiful. Is this seat taken?”

magic-door

Photo prompt courtesy of Dale Rogerson

These 100 hopeful words were written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners Challenge.

Was it in her head or did he come through the magical doors?

32 thoughts on “but, still (or the magic door)”

Leave a comment