Flash Fiction: Presence, Part Nine

The stall opened while she laid despondent, and feeling a dapple of sun on a chill shoulder she looked up. He offered her his hand with a cough, and with quivering lips beaded with tears she hesitated to grasp it. But then in the warmth of his eyes, in the glory of being truly seen again by another, she gripped his fingers.

His strength joined with hers, and together they struggled against the damp prison.



Copyright © 2018 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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