Not What You Were Expecting
The nightingale sang. The moon was full. The evening perfect.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the world?”
She looked at him, remembering all her thoughts about this moment, how she would act, what she would say.
But this time, something was different.
He knelt there, waiting.
“No.”
By Grant
Blank Shock
The emptiness of its flow.
White noise moving with a strangled vengeance.
The sound of blood in his ears.
That’s what it was, and he was listening to the flow, not of her words from her lips, but of the blank shock that hugged him. They were over.
By Taps
His Ring
The ring sat, gleaming slightly, on the coffee-table. I didn’t notice it until I’d searched the whole house, calling out. I sat back heavily on the sofa and stared.
The note beneath it, handwritten, beckoned to be read, but I didn’t dare.
The words “I’m leaving” were still wet.
By Grant
