Between life and ER trips and longer stories, I haven’t done a Friday Fictioneers prompt in a month. A damn shame, really; Rochelle always organizes it so neatly. Let’s see if I can’t get back on track, yeah?
The Morning Walk
Her feet never touched the ground as we walked together down the lane.
“What’s it like?”
The question blurted out before I could stop it. She looked at me with a smile.
“What, being dead?”
I nodded sheepishly.
Her head tilted to the side as she thought. I could see the cows in the field through her transparent curls.
I nodded again, in understanding this time.
We kept walking. I had a hundred more things to ask, but I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t realize she’d gone until the sunlight broke through the mist and warmed my cheeks.