Another flash fiction from Felicity at http://felicityjohns.com. I don’t often do flash fiction, but this week’s prompt was particularly interesting. It could have gone in so many different directions.
The prompt: “The man in the tractor”. http://felicityjohns.com/2015/04/10/friday-flash-the-man-in-the-tractor
Edge of the field, edge of the road. Every day, from 8 am to 3:30. Waiting. Difficult in the snow, smothering in the summer. The tractor had air and a heater. It didn’t matter. What else was waiting but endurance?
“I’ll come back,” she said. She kissed him full on the mouth, and he could taste her tears on his lips, dribbling onto his chin. Not quite salty, but the taste of already-gone.
His eyes were open when they kissed. Her eyes were closed, and her lashes were wet, clumped with mascara. He wanted to remember her face before she left, every pore, every freckle, every line the sun had drawn.
And so he waited, every day, from 8 am to 3:30, at the edge of the road where she could find him. She promised she’d come back to him.
He promised he’d wait.
That was late summer, 1972.