Fiancée

Written 54-L22 [2023-06-15], Edited 54-L22 [2023-06-15]

Image credit: Twitter Twemoji

The shack was as wet as the rest of the forest. The smell of wood and rain flowed into Stephan’s nostrils like syrup, calming his nerves.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, he thought. But in so doing, he thought about it. He thought about everything he’d left behind. And everyone.

Stephan headed to the dock, got in his boat and put down his supplies. He had two oars, a fishing rod, some bait, some line, a lamp, a flask of clean water and a small clay pot of stew. Stephan rowed out into the center of the lake, and began fishing for his next meal.

Stephan hoped desperately that a fish would bite quickly enough to keep the memories away. Or maybe lightning would strike. Or a wolf would howl on the shore. But his hope was always futile. He had to wait, and if he waited he would wait in thought, and if he waited in thought he’d think of Matt.

Oh Matt thought Stephan, Why did things have to go this way?

We should have left the rest of them Matt. Sylvia, Mom, and especially Dad. We could have left them all, and we could have been happy, thought Stephan.

Something bit the fishing line but Stephan didn’t care anymore. He weeped for his dead fiancée.

Notes

This was written in 10 minutes during a Joy of Writing meetup.

Feedback from the Joy of Writing Group

• a break from my usual style