Our Table

This week’s Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.


Our Table


Claire’s heart fluttered as she read it again. She had been seeing George pretty regularly for almost a year… He was perfect. Sweet. Caring. He brought her tulips (her favorite). He read to her. They took a trip to Europe together last fall. He talked to her cats… And no guy had done that before. Perfect.

Would he ask her tonight?

She didn’t really have to consider what her answer would be. Just how she would say it.

She sat at their table in her best evening gown and waited, a place they had only been once before… their first date. She couldn’t believe he still remembered it.

“I told you I’d be here,” she heard George’s voice from behind her. She smiled and rose to her feet, spinning around.

And her heart collapsed back into the chair… to the ground… Six feet under.

George was settling into a table a few feet away with a petite blond with unnaturally large eyes, a pout set on her lips.

“I’m at our table, babe.  Didn’t you get my text?”


21 thoughts on “Our Table

    1. Thanks for reading. I don’t think he has guts. A man with guts would have formally broken it off with Claire before he started a new relationship. I think he just screwed up and sent to the wrong person. Thanks for reading!

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s