The home-delivered lunch attracts flies, their buzz mingling with meaningless TV chatter, the remote beyond the reach of stiffened limbs. She smiles from the photo, her satin shoes skimming the floor, dizzy with love. It’s been nine years since they danced. The clock chimes. Another three hours until supper arrives.
Lesley Bungay grew up in the North-East and now lives in Hampshire. She writes short fiction as an antidote to querying her debut novel. Her words are published in ‘Time’ HG Wells anthology, The Rabbit Hole 5, and online with Wensum Lit, Paragraph Planet and 101 Words. Follow her on Twitter/Instagram at @LesleyjayneB.
leaves a wonderful creep…!
Thank you Karin
So sad…and most likely a reality for many. Well said Lesley.
Thank you Kelsey
So sad and makes me think of so many people who have lost their partner.
Thank you for reading, Helen
Well put!
Thank you Chelsea
The delights of growing old.
It comes to us all!