Micro fiction


reading time less than a minute

Sometimes Joe would pinch her, wink and call her “prettyface”. She often tells the staff how he used to throw breadcrumbs at her during dinner. He always did have that mischievous kid look about him.

Their children live far away and have grown children of their own. Sometimes they visit. She has trouble with their names but sees a little of him in their eyes, their hands, their smile.

Sophie is ninety three and usually sits by the window. In her dreams she still goes to the beach with her darling.

“Prettyface,” he says. “I’ve missed you.”

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