Friday Flash Fiction
When all was left and nothing had been overturned, Justin closed the door as he left. He walked out into the promise of a new day. He let the sun warm the coldness that had blanketed him.
It had been a rocky start, a volatile middle and a cold ending. He knew he lacked emotion, he felt nothing. He became her punching bag.
Last night when she said she wouldn’t be there in the morning, he heard the words. They fell asleep, so he thought, but now that he thought, maybe she waited for him to go to sleep and made her exit.
There was no good-bye. There was no good night. There was nothing but a cold ‘I won’t be here in the morning.’
He woke with the alarm and she was gone. He checked the house and nothing had been overturned, nothing was taken. He knew that she was gone for good.