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Saturday

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Saturday. She waits, knowing nothing will come. In her head she pleads, silent, hopeful, desperate. ‘Please, please let there be something. Just a word. Just one word. Just something. Anything.’ Silence. Nothing. No words to tease and torture her, no balm for her soul today. She sighs and turns. Her hands busy, but her eyes and mind slide back to the phone. Still nothing. Silently she curses. Stupid! Stupid! When will she ever learn? It’s Saturday.

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About Hawksword

Reluctant writer, word dabbler...tea maker, coffee drinker, rum imbiber, chocolate eater.

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