Friday Fictioneers 10-22-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Field

Sam glanced down at the table, the scattered remains of their lives abandoned among the discards and empty dishes. She hadn’t touched her water and he was leaving half a beer.

He’d never go home again except to get his suitcase.

Amicable was a funny word. He didn’t understand how to leave her behind like a friend. She wasn’t a friend and maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe if she’d been a friend he’d fight to save whatever remained. As it was, he had no fight left in him anymore.

Stepping to the street, he raised a hand for a taxi and was gone.

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