In the shadow of a lesser mountain under thick pine camouflage by pond of melted snow, I sleep, impervious to the calls of well-meaning search parties, content to finally feel free, at home, exhausted from trial and error improvisations, making good, making up for time spent so wildly off course.
Lee DeAmali resides in the Los Angeles area.
They decide to spent some time apart so they can get their priorities straight, sort out their emotions, and gain a new perspective on their situation.
It changes nothing. Within a month they’re back where they started, lying on that operating table, begging the surgeon to stitch them back together.
This story was based on the prompt “time apart” at TypeTrigger.