He leaves and I move to a cheap motel. I look down from my balcony at the sad blue of the pool. A scatter of deck chairs blown in by an angry wind or another broken marriage. Pots of flowers lined up – what happened, they want to know. Layer of muck on the poolskin and who would swim in a mess like this? I look at myself in the mirror, who would live in a life like this? A click like a phone hanging up forever. I remember the world is a pool. I put on my swimsuit and go.
Francine Witte has stories in Best Small Fictions 2022, and Flash Fiction America (W.W. Norton.) Her recent books are Dressed All Wrong for This (Blue Light Press,) The Way of the Wind (AdHoc fiction,) and The Cake, The Smoke, The Moon (ELJ Editions,) Just Outside the Tunnel of Love (Blue Light Press.) She is flash fiction editor for Flash Boulevard and The South Florida Poetry Journal. She lives in NYC. Twitter: @francinewitte. francinewitte.com.
The Centifictionist 
You must be logged in to post a comment.