His Girl
He returned to their place, behind a shrub. Where they as teenagers
watched practitioners exit a church. Where he kissed away her tears
after her father walked out, showering affection on a stranger.
She, the girl he played tag with in childhood. The one he dated
through high school. The one he wrote to after he moved out of the
city, and her letters stopped abruptly.
He watched between raindrops clinging to leafless branches. She exited
the church on the arm of another man. Wedding procession followed.
Rainstorm may have passed, but the storm in his mind had only intensified.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She
resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals and
many friends.
Please support the site by purchasing one of my books on Amazon. Check out Quitting The Grave, a murder mystery set on the Oregon Trail. Plus, don't forget my other books: They Both Loved Vonnegut, Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland, and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.