Today on Erica Drayton Writes, the Prompt is death!
Write a 100 word story.
And tag me if you take up the challenge.
He held the envelope in his hands. Smudged and yellow from age. The address unreadable. With shaky hands he carefully removed the piece of paper and unfolded it. The ink was faded but he knew exactly what it said by heart.
He read it to himself. A tear rolling down his cheek. He clutched it to his chest. The pain as unbearable today as it was thirty years ago. With little energy, he stood and stumbled into his bed. The last of him, draining from his eyes.
Lying in bed he looked over at her picture and closed his eyes.
I got a letter this morning, how do you reckon it read?
Say, "Hurry, hurry! The gal you love is dead."
All 100 Word Stories
The First 100 | The Second 100 | The Third 100 | The Fourth 100 | The Fifth 100 | The Sixth 100