The Visitor

The fire had died down to embers by the time their lovemaking had finished, and they lay exhausted on the thick hearth rug.

She reached out a bare arm to toss a few sticks onto the coals, which quickly caught aflame. 

Already, he felt her slipping away. He slid arms around her, held on tightly and tearfully. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, weeping.

“I won’t,” she replied, warm breath against his ears, yet so very far away.

His sweat-shiny arms were empty.

A few burning sticks crackled on the fire. 

Her picture smiled down from the mantel.

“See you soon.”


Copyright Ben Knight

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s