Desperation and DistrustA Story by Andrea A. WentzMy first purely fictional piece. This did not really happen, nor is it likely ever to, at least to me :pThe cold tickled the back of his neck, again he wished he’d never cut off his hair. Cinching up his coat higher about his neck he set out on his mile and a half journey. He was going to meet a woman he’d been texting only moments before. He’d known this woman almost two years and had put her through hell time and again. Now he was trying to make up for it, trying to help her see he had changed and that he was here to stay. Though he was ill and tired from a long day at work, he strode out into the chill night to see her face to face, to let her see the truth in his eyes and the determination in his face. All that mattered was this one chance to make it up to her, for he knew it would assuredly be his last. Through text she doubted his every word. "Sweet words though they may come from a snake," was how she worded it. His resolve led him to her door, arriving after midnight. Gently he knocked. No answer. He texted her to see if she was still awake. No response. Dejected and even more ill from the cold, he turned and walked home not wanting to wake her from her dreams. He would never mention to her his late night trek, afraid she may laugh at him or scold him for making himself sicker. Never would he know that she had been outside, not five minutes earlier, praying he would someday do just such a gesture of honesty. She knew it was hopeless though. Returning to her room she crawled into bed. She received his text asking if she was awake, but her childish hopes had left her heart so broken that she simply rolled over and tried to sleep. She would talk to him tomorrow. Tonight, she would dream of what would have happened had he come. Tonight, he would dream of what would have happened had she answered his text. © 2009 Andrea A. WentzFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on February 28, 2009 Last Updated on March 2, 2009 Author
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