They used to dance and laugh

She’ll wait all night for him to come. But he won’t come, or if he does it’ll be dawn. She’ll sit by the door and twist her hair; drink black coffee and fret. They used to dance and laugh, roll around between the sheets. Now they barely talk any more, or if they do it soon becomes a shouting match. She’s not sure what went wrong, just that it is all wrong. He remembers how it used to be, but not how to recapture the magic. Yet she still waits for him to come and he still does eventually return.



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.