That Day
He dreamt of one. Then another and another…until the sky was
crowded with them. Umbrellas. Pristine white. Open. Descending from up
high. Why?
They were irrelevant in his daily life. Not so for his wife who needed
different umbrellas to complement her wardrobe.
Upon awakening he realized what triggered the scene he envisioned. Why
he told his boss he wouldn’t be at work that day.
“Does this go with my sweater?” his wife asked, opening an umbrella by
his bedside.
The man quietly slid back under the covers.
No way was he going to move on Friday the 13th.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna, a former librarian, gathers tidbits from around the
world in her travels, strings them into delectable morsels of poetry
and prose, and stores them in her gopher hole in the Canadian
Prairies. She is open to sharing, upon request.
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.