I saw you yesterday as you crossed the parking lot, a discreet glance my way. Arrogance compelled you. You still have that charming smile, a smile that possessed me.
The woman by your side had my features, exactly your type. Did she notice your faraway eyes on me?
Before the urban sprawl, we came here together. Tree-lined fields of tall grass and wildflowers provided the perfect cover. You left me, buried in fertile earth, strangled with lovely vines.
You remember my vines, the ones that drive you to return to me with each flower you possess. You never forget your first.
This 100-word story was written for Friday Fictioneers. I haven’t participated in this prompt in quite a while. I’m back for at least this week. If you would like to read the other stories, click the badge.
***It was brought to my attention (by my husband) that my story may be too vague. I asked for his interpretation, and he had nothing. Eventually, I wrenched it from him. He was way off. Perhaps it is too vague. As the writer, I think it’s easy to see the entire story in your words, and we assume it’s obvious to the reader. Of course that is not always the case. Now I’m interested to know how others interpret the story. Please let me know. Should I revise? I feel a bit off my game.