(This is my friday fictioneers (http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/tag/friday-fictioneers/) submission for December 27th 2013. I swore I’d have a week off this week-what with it being the festive season and all-but I couldn’t resist the temptation that came from Douglas M McIlroy’s wonderfully anthropomorphic photograph. After a couple of weeks in which I managed to respect the word limit, this time I’ve found that, even after brutal editing, this is still running at 133 words.
Also, I realise that I haven’t responded to a few people’s comments from last week. I didn’t intend to be rude but it’s such a busy time of year. Belated thanks to all of you.)
He’ll have taken her there by now. A typically overblown gesture. The worst of it is: I thought of it first. A proposal from the Tower, fireworks courtesy of the city. I’d even, almost, bought the ring when she chucked me over for him. At least, she would’ve done if I’d ever found the courage to talk to her.
Almost time now. He said that he’d do it at midnight. And of course she’ll say yes.
In the cold, I shudder. I should be at home, but I wouldn’t be able to watch there. Something’s happening. The tower lights flicker on and off. They look like eyes watching over the city. Over me.
It’s her way of telling me: she knows I’m waiting for us to pick up where we, almost, left off.