Monday, December 14, 2009


The wine’s off, he says, sending it back. He takes her hand and strokes her fingers. I wanted everything to be perfect, he says. It is, she says. Besides she’s with him. What else matters? But both know that the evening’s tainted. Even the new bottle can’t make it fresh.

Read more 50 word stories here.

1 comment:

Kathryn's Daily Writing Workout said...

James' love stalked from the earth upwards, laying down spindly roots like anchors into the bricks and mortar. One day, Caroline left the sash window ajar. Just an inch. James threw a line in over the sill and crept silently through her fibres and under the duvet. Convolvulus or vine?