LOSS- April 2011 Brokeback Slash Challenge
LOSS
double drabble- an entry for the April 2011 Challenge at Brokeback Slash
Word Count: 200
Author’s note: This is the first time I’ve tried my hand at RPS.
Naturally, this is a complete work of fiction.
Prompt : Rain on the Windshield
Three years and almost three months since he died.
Life goes on, of course. He had responsibilities to other people, and he had never been a quitter. So many changes. A relationship that he had hoped would be his last, children that he had loved but had to let go, a little girl with red shoes growing up too fast for him.
Another little girl, with her father’s eyes and her father’s long legs. And work, serious work, always work as a solace and a reason for going on.
He sat in the car, aching with loss, watching the rain on the windshield, the drops running down like the tears he had only been able to shed in private.
He’d cradled her in his arms at that awards ceremony, the one where his friend once had been recognized when he was beyond such recognition. The widow, tiny and somewhat brittle, but fierce for all that. They’d shared a moment of love and loss, a moment too open for the cameras, affirming that in this, they were one.
His friend’s bright smile would never fade. No one would ever know the nature of his loss.
I was quite enamored of him……
double drabble- an entry for the April 2011 Challenge at Brokeback Slash
Word Count: 200
Author’s note: This is the first time I’ve tried my hand at RPS.
Naturally, this is a complete work of fiction.
Prompt : Rain on the Windshield
Three years and almost three months since he died.
Life goes on, of course. He had responsibilities to other people, and he had never been a quitter. So many changes. A relationship that he had hoped would be his last, children that he had loved but had to let go, a little girl with red shoes growing up too fast for him.
Another little girl, with her father’s eyes and her father’s long legs. And work, serious work, always work as a solace and a reason for going on.
He sat in the car, aching with loss, watching the rain on the windshield, the drops running down like the tears he had only been able to shed in private.
He’d cradled her in his arms at that awards ceremony, the one where his friend once had been recognized when he was beyond such recognition. The widow, tiny and somewhat brittle, but fierce for all that. They’d shared a moment of love and loss, a moment too open for the cameras, affirming that in this, they were one.
His friend’s bright smile would never fade. No one would ever know the nature of his loss.
I was quite enamored of him……