He’d stood her up again.
He always broke his promises, and this time she was furious. No longer would she wait for him. He treated her as if she didn’t exist. She was finished!
Resolved in her decision, she pushed herself to her feet, and floated angrily through the wall.
Rebecca just started writing. More of her work can be found at eurasianflavour.wordpress.com or on her WritersCafe writing profile.
“Only half a world away,” she mused. “He said he wants to see me.”
Ignoring every germ of doubt, barely even daring to breathe, she sat in the metallic cylinder that carried her through the skies to the place where he lived.
Twenty-four hours later, her phone refused to sing.
Deepa is a full-time writer who occasionally gets to write for herself.
She had a burning but unrequited love. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so she transformed herself into a microorganism and crawled up his intestines.
She discovered some deep fried fig newtons in there, which intensified her affections.
She lived in his heart until he died.
Based on a title suggested by Dan Hingston via Facebook.