Thursday, April 12, 2012
Friday Fictioneers: Shell Shocked
The hard bench must have made a permanent indentation by now. I glanced at the tunnel that seemingly led to nowhere—or anywhere. I wanted to walk inside and escape.
I replayed our conversation. At the guardrail, Jonathan had slowed to a crawl. “We need to talk.”
Four words no one wants to hear.
“It’s over. We’re over.”
I stiffened, staring at my emerald-cut diamond. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t speak.
“I’ve met someone else.”
My heart plunged. Anger surged. I grabbed the handle. “Stop the car.” I flung the door open and glared at my fiancé. “What's her name?
Jonathan stared ahead. “Mark.”