By Krystyna Fedosejevs
My last words infuriated him. I admit to stubbornness, arrogance, not to lack of commitment. Blame myself for the ensuing silence between us.
“Go on with your life,” he hurled, “I with mine.” As if the two years we were lovers meant nothing to him. Perhaps they didn’t.
I’m learning to go forward. Refraining from reflecting on what was or what could have been. Tucking memories of us into the past.
Phone rings. Machine answers. A man’s voice resonates. His.
In the comfort of my couch, a cat arches its back feeling gentle strokes. My tears no longer mat its fur.
Suggestive story about a personal emotional problem. I like the ring of authenticity in it.
Thank you Bruno.
There are always those “after calls”. You handled this one nicely.
Thank you Paul for reading and commenting. Your opinion, that of an accomplished author, means so much to me.