“Not viable.”
The doctor’s words seared through her, stole the breath from her lungs.
Granted, the timing sucked, but her fiancé’s visible relief chafed.
Tonight, she curls up in bed alone. Sorrow weaves through her, clinging like vines—grief for a future she had never known she wanted… until now.
G.R. LeBlanc is a haiku poet and fiction writer living in Atlantic Canada, where the winters are long and harsh but the people are warm and kind. Learn more about her at https://sleekbio.com/grleblanc.
Heartbreaking. Wonderfully written.
“Sorrow weaves through her, clinging like vines—“ loved this line
You pack a lot into 50 words!
I agree with the last commenter this packs a lot of punch in just 50 words.
Thank you, everyone. I truly appreciate the kind comments. 🙏🏻💕