A Friendly Game
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Abel laid the worn, homemade game board before him on the sidewalk. The same one he and Sam had played on since they were kids, right here on this very street corner.
Cardboard and stones — he laid out his own pieces, then another set for Sam. He scanned the street, looking for his friend, then shifted his first stone.
Another glance to the end of the empty road, then, a teardrop fell on the bent and faded cardboard. Abel picked up a stone for Sam and played it. “I miss you, old friend.”
Image by omer yousief from Pixabay
At ninety-three words, this microfiction falls between a dribble and a drabble. It’s one of my favourites, from my archive. I hope you like it too!
Interesting the thoughts and emotions this triggered, mostly about my mom who is the last of her generation in our family. It's not difficult to accept that one will go and one will stay but I doubt we're ever really prepared for the emotions. She is being treated like a treasure by the family and, although it doesn't erase the sense of loss, she does seem to enjoy the attention 💕