Wednesday, December 5, 2012

17 Very Short Stories. -11-


It was light in the room, it was dawn. Maybe 6 a.m., maybe a bit later. The bed next to me was cold, the pillow flattened but only the recollection of sleep remained. I went downstairs, through the empty house, looking for something, a note, a clue. The newspaper lay on the doorstep, an imprint upon the dew. I made coffee, read about education overrides and sports scores, listened to the empty house. The phone never rang.