“A pretty picture”

I saw them sitting in that restaurant.

They were happy.

She was happy.

He had her hand in his.

Both of them were smiling.

It was a pretty picture, I must say.

But he was in my spot.

I was supposed to be there holding her hand.

Not him.

Never anyone else.

So I knew what I had to do.

It was simple.

If they wanted to be happy without me they could.

But they would be happy together in eternity instead.

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Categories: flash fictionTags: , , , , , , , , , , ,


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