Some days were better than others. He’d leave the house. Buy groceries. Walk in the park. Feed the squirrels. Try to go on without her.
But most days were bad. On those days he’d stay in bed. Thinking only of her. Hurting as badly as he had that first day without her.
And then there was today. The anniversary of that terrible day. 365 days of pain. And planning. Now it was time.
He imagined them. Walking hand-in-hand on the boardwalk. Oblivious to his pain.
Reaching into his bag, he smiled. Today was going to be a better day.
Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot
I swear this started out as a sweet story but at about word 63, it turned … well, I’ll let y’all be the judge and end it for yourselves. What’s he reaching for?
Thanks, as always, to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners Challenge for providing inspiration.