Prodigal

So this was a prompt from a couple of days ago and I promise I did the writing...just in a very traditional pencil and paper kind of way. I am just now getting time to post here. Jump over to my lovely friends who were far more on the ball than me and see what they are up to.... Leah's is here and Sabrina posted here

view original here (look to the bottom left window!)

She stood at the window. She stood at the window every day since he left.

The threads that tied them were still strong. He still loved her and so he would return to her. Then they could rest.

Her body had withered long ago, her bones turned to dust. The houses around theirs had crumbled and gone, the residents forced out by her initial rage. She'd moved the landscape up around their house, it reflected her mood now...her need to be alone and wait.

She kept their house the same, untouched by the ravages of time. The same so that he would recognise it when he returned. Not that it mattered, all he need do was feel along the thread. He knew it was there, he'd plucked at it more than once tugging at the hope where her heart once beat.

So she stood at the window and she waited for him to return. She would wait forever and they would never rest.

Just a little song to go with this post ;-)