flip-flops (7)

She carried them to the backyard. The grass was wet under her feet. The sky was turning gold in places, the way it always did before it got too bright.

She sat on the edge of the deck and placed the flip flops beside her. For a moment, she imagined he’d come up behind her and nudge her with his knee, say something stupid just to make her laugh.

But no footsteps came. She didn’t cry. She hadn’t, not for a while. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. It was like her body had run out of water.