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Weekly Contest #32
“She’s not coming back, is she?” Daniel looked at me expectantly. I was the star of the show, as it were, and so I should know better than anyone. Only I didn’t. We’d been stuck here for weeks, or maybe months. It was hard to tell. The sun hadn’t moved in the sky. It was a deranged thought, but I was certain it hadn’t. Daniel stood in front of the fireplace holding a glass of merlot. I sat in a red wing chair facing him. I could see the sun out the window, forever looking like it was one o’clock in the afternoon. I was angry at him. After ...
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