One oh eight.

photo courtesy Unsplash

photo courtesy Unsplash

“The bells of St. Brigit’s are calling tonight, my love. Do you hear them?”

He nods and turns the newspaper, the crinkle irritating my ears no worse than his silence. I look out the window, watching as a young couple walk by, headed towards the cathedral. They stop beneath the streetlamp. Her words are inaudible. He holds her gloveless hands in his, rubs them vigorously, raises them to his mouth and blows his warm breath on them. She giggles, her cheeks pink from the cold. The snowflakes dance in the light, shading them in white. He kisses her.

Behind me, he turns the page again. Crinkle crinkle.


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10 comments on “One oh eight.”

  1. Rachael

    Leave him to his newspaper, throw a coat on and go out in the snow! Evening Mass can be magic, even for a non-believer like me.

  2. Morgan

    Ugh. She must feel so trapped. She needs to grab his book, toss him a coat and tell him, “we’re going out!” And if he doesn’t join him, she should go anyway. 🙂

  3. angela

    To be with someone who’s not there, at least not in the way you need, is so lonely. I love the crinkle detail.

  4. kgwaite

    Oh, man. This feels so lonely. Love the crinkling of the newspaper that seems to distance them so well.

  5. Kathleen Basi

    Such an evocative scene, the stark contrast between the lovers outside and the faded love within. My only concrit: because no one is named, I was disoriented when you said “he” crinkled the paper again–I was still wanting to attach it to the lover outside.

  6. Cameron

    All of the above, Rox. They’ve said it all. Great little flash, full of tension and deftly handled emotions.

  7. Mand

    In a few short words, you were able to capture the loss of that magical new love and the wistfulness we feel before we realize it.

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