Friday Fictioneers



The photo provided by Rich Voza

The sun dipped towards the horizon, painting streaks of colors across the plane. Would he come?

Million dollar question. If he came, that meant one thing; if he didn’t, another. Part of me hoped it was the latter. Never seeing him again silenced my part as if it had never begun.

If he came, safety was found in yet another way.

How had I gotten myself into this mess?


I looked up the stairs. The pilot wanted to go home, but I shook my head. Felt him first, turning to glimpse his darkness silhouetted against the sun.

The sun vanished and so did he.

13 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers

  1. The last line was a shock surprise, and a little mysterious. Is it metaphorical? Did her world end? Or did “he” simply blot out the sun and disappear in shadow? In a way, it doesn’t matter, because, either way, the when a period of waiting comes to an end, a new world starts. Beautifully written, athling

    Liked by 1 person

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