Flash Friday #67 'Moving on'
Original flash fiction: Sometimes we just have to walk away...
Welcome to ‘Flash Friday’ where every week I share some of my original flash fiction.
This week’s story was inspired by the writing prompt: ‘His voice had never sounded so cold…’
Today’s piece comes courtesy of one of my ‘analogue’ writing sessions at my local library. Sometimes a change of scene, and a break from screens, is all that’s needed to help the words flow. The only distraction I had whilst writing this one was a seagull on the rooftops outside - I became fascinated by just how long it could stand balanced on one leg. (The answer is about twenty-five minutes.)
I hope you enjoy reading this one, and please leave a ‘like’ or a comment below if you’d like to share your thoughts - I’d love to hear what you think.
“Leave me alone. No! I mean it.”
His voice had never sounded so cold. Taken aback by his hostile tone, Sheila stopped dead and halted her approach, retracting the arms she had outstretched eagerly, hoping for a hug. Surprised and hurt, she stepped back silently, allowing him to continue on his way unimpeded. Fear of a second, far ruder, rejection held her fast as she watched him walk briskly on, his hard-soled shoes striking argumentatively on the pavement.
Numb, and shaking slightly, Sheila stared after her first love. Long after he’d disappeared around the corner she still stood there, lost and confused. In her mind’s eye she could still see his younger version striding along in his tattered, ex-army trench coat and ripped jeans. The jeans were long gone now, and a smart navy blazer had replaced the disreputable coat.
She hadn’t a clue why he had responded that way. They hadn’t parted badly, they’d just not seen each other since. But perhaps his recollection of it all was rather different. In any event, she had too much self respect to go chasing after him to demand an explanation. What would be the point? Sheila fought against her feelings of injustice, taking solace in the knowledge that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Or perhaps he hadn’t recognised her, she wondered fleetingly. Stupid, wishful thinking. Who was she kidding? Of course he’d known her. The look in his eye had been clear: a mixture of shock and startled displeasure, closely followed by a desire to get as far away from her as possible. A far cry from the smiling welcome she used to enjoy from him, but it appeared that that particular door would not reopening anytime soon.
Clenching her fists against the ghost of an old familiar ache inside, Sheila turned away and headed back to her car. As a wise person once said:
“Sometimes you can do everything right, and still lose.”
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