Empty Cups: MicroFiction #AmWriting #Words #Romance

I wouldn’t say she was beautiful, more unique than anything, but she definitely had the kind of face that was unforgettable. It wasn’t in a bad way either.

The way the planes and curves of her cheeks, lips, and bones played with shadow and light did something to a man’s mind. It did something to mine.

Even now I see her image. I can even hear her laughter. The tone of it has left a scar as deep as my marrow and just as familiar as the freckles on my calloused hands.

I wish I could say things ended well. More than anything they simply ended. My call, my shot, my rules and my way . . . I was doing her the favor by being by her side, wasn’t I? I was the pretty one they said. I was the one that was so full of life.

I was full of something and that goes without saying.

I was full of her. The truth is I am nothing more than an empty cup, sat on a ledge waiting for someone else to fill me.

Sad truth is I only want her.

THE END

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

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5 thoughts on “Empty Cups: MicroFiction #AmWriting #Words #Romance

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