Grandpa’s eyes fluttered closed, face now still like a shrunken wax facsimile.
I touched Dad’s shoulder. “He’s gone. Let’s go.”
He smiled, lips tight with hidden grief. “I need a few moments.”
I swallowed. “I understand.”
I walked out into the autumn air, wishing I’d hugged him instead of speaking.
Work has been very busy but I decided to have another crack at @jayna’s awesome fifty word story challenge again. This time the prompt was “goodbye.” Goodbyes are always tough. Sometimes they are harder than others. Sometimes they lead to a lifetime of regret.
Andrew J. Savage was born in Australia where they trained him as a lawyer and put him to work. After escaping the sand and the sea, he now lives in Japan with his wife, two children and dog, Max (who has filled the canid-shaped hole in his heart nicely.)