Flash Fiction

Missing you.

I stare at the lake of ice. I feel my heart tighten. Memories of the past flooding back to me. When you would stare into my eyes, when we would hold hands, and we would glide together. Heaven itself would play a blissful tune as we danced. Our warm breathe would journey out into the freezing air intertwining together as we embraced. I remember our eyes being so close that with just the simplest of movements our lips would have been touching. Your soft lips, your doe eyes, your love. I miss all of it. I miss every part of it.

Now I am old.

I stare at this lake of ice with my thin cigarette, the only breathe intertwining with mine now, is its smoke. I inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. Hopefully my lungs blacken some more. Perhaps if I continue smoking hundreds of these I’ll get to see you. Then in Heaven we could be dancing on ice together. I could smoke thousands of these cigarettes a day if it means seeing you again.

Now I hear laughter.

I stare at a young couple, holding each other as they step on the ice, their laughter and smiles make the bitter dawn feel warm. They’re so passionate that I feel like I’m in summer. The man kisses the woman, their woollen hats knocking against each other. She loses her balance and they both tumble on the ice. They roll on the surface hugging each other. I can’t help but see you as her, and myself as him. Unable to bear more, I turn and pull Yappy’s leash and make a solitary walk back home.

My heart aches.

 

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