Monday’s are long and taxing on your brain – so it’s the perfect day for 100 words of fiction…
From the window of her apartment I watch the sun rising. It flays the sky with pink and red wounds that the sparse, morning clouds cannot staunch. I find my scattered clothes and get dressed. My shirt carries the heavy taint of smoke and perfume. I gag as I pull it, half-buttoned, over my head.
She is asleep or she is awake and pretending. It makes little difference. I open the door and step back into the world, trailing my regret in red wine streamers.
Just another Sunday morning doorway to add to my growing collection of never forgotten ghosts.