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Weekly Contest #208
My feet felt as if they’d been cast in concrete. I stood motionless at the end of the walkway that lead to my family home. “Honey? Your mom is waiting inside.” “I’ll be right there.” My wife looked good in black. Her long black hair and thick lashes, the way her tan skin looked smooth against the dark fabric. I watched her walk in, and peak at me as she closed the door. She was worried. I could always tell. I didn’t want to go in. I didn’t want it to be true so I stayed looking toward the white brick house. I remember how we used to pl...
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