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The sky was overcast, the dull gray clouds hanging low, as if holding their breath, waiting for something to change. A soft wind brushed against the edges of the trees, rustling the bare branches. There was a faint chirp of birds somewhere off in the distance, too distant to seem alive, too faint to matter.
On the cracked porch of an old house, two figures stood facing each other. The younger woman, her hands stiff at her sides, wore a dark woolen coat, its collar flipped up against the chill. The coat was a few sizes too big, the sleeves too long, and as she shifted her weight nervously, the fabric rustled. A gold locket dangled from her neck, swaying back and forth, catching the little light that filtered through the clouds. The wind picked up again, sending a chill that made her shiver.
The older man, his face weathered and drawn with time, stood stiffly, his gaze focused on the dirt beneath his boots. His faded denim jacket looked threadbare in places, the fabric creased from years of wear. There was an awkward silence between them, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the porch. As the woman stepped forward, her boots crunching against the gravel, she lifted her hand, fingers trembling, to touch the locket.
Her eyes flickered up to meet his, but before she could say anything, he spoke, his voice low and
hesitant. “I thought I’d lost you.”
This was written by our contributing writer, Alisha Blanch.
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