At first, I thought breaking up with Mike at the end of our four-day vacay might be a little harsh. Who am I kidding? It will definitely hurt.
I wanted to visit the beach though, and we still get along with each other . Besides, I’ve been planning to end it for a while. It isn’t him; well, maybe some, but mostly it’s me. As soon as he returns from the bathroom, I’ll tell him.
I stared out at the ocean on our final day together. Turning around at the sound of my name, there was Mike, on one knee…
About the Creator
Abby Kay Mendonca
Here to share my voice. I write about the overstated and underappreciated. Also, I love cats.
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Year of the Hunter
Leonardo.Ai Sixty-one-year-old Piper's hair was heavily streaked with gray, which made her pistachio-green eyes stand out more. She had lived in a tiny Alaskan village northeast of Anchorage her entire life. It was remote and accessible only by snowmobile or plane (weather permitting) in the winter. Most residents were subsistence hunters, supplementing with salmon and wildfowl; gardens were abundant with the long days of summer, producing enormous cabbage, lovely potatoes, bean crops, and a wide variety of berries. Some still worked the Alaska Pipeline on a rotating schedule: one week on and one off of the North Slope. Others, like Piper's father, were employed by the Alaska Railroad.
By Andrea Corwin a day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Nooooooo!!!! I can feel the awkwardness 😱
Oh dear, and what happens now? Great story