Flash prompt: play
The Skies Are Gray
"Come outside."
"It's cold!"
"If it were warm, it would melt. Come play!"
"Can't we play in bed instead?"
Xander pulled Anya into the snow. "After we make snow angels and a snow family and a snow fort..."
He wakes up alone, the night chilly for mid-May. This is the time the dreams come, when he should be putting flowers on her grave. Instead, all he has are these dreams, the ones of a future they'll never have.
He rolls over, turns on the tv. It's midnight junk, but he doesn't care. It's been nine years. He still keeps a list of infomercial crap she'd like.
"Come outside."
"It's cold!"
"If it were warm, it would melt. Come play!"
"Can't we play in bed instead?"
Xander pulled Anya into the snow. "After we make snow angels and a snow family and a snow fort..."
He wakes up alone, the night chilly for mid-May. This is the time the dreams come, when he should be putting flowers on her grave. Instead, all he has are these dreams, the ones of a future they'll never have.
He rolls over, turns on the tv. It's midnight junk, but he doesn't care. It's been nine years. He still keeps a list of infomercial crap she'd like.