Each week a photo is used, donated by one of the participants of Sunday Photo Fiction, and the idea is to write a story with the photo as a prompt in around 200 words.
She stopped at the end of the pier, staring off into the dark water. It was a year ago this week when she’d lost Sandy. The longest year of her life.
After the first months, friends began telling her to ‘get over it.’ As if Sandy could be compressed down into an It. How could she get over it? He had been her world. Still was her world.
He’d been an excellent swimmer. So how could he have drowned? The police thought he must have suffered a heart attack or stroke. Something to knock him out long enough to drown.
The thought of him drowning; of water thick in his mouth and nose, body sinking, unable to save himself, haunted her. She wanted it not to be so. Desperately, wanted it not to be so.
But it was. It had been. It always would be.
He was gone. Lost. Buried. Forgotten by everyone but her. One day she might move on.
Laying down, she put her head on her paws, waiting for him to come home.