A Moment

A Moment

The moment I saw her, the moment my eyes lit upon her face—the familiar slant of her eyes, the turn of her nose, the pout in her lips—I knew her, could picture every inch of her, feel her warm hands soft on my cool skin, the whisper of her breath, hot against my ear.  Though I knew it was impossible, I knew it was her.

The memories, every moment I had spent in her presence, every second I had loved her, and the years of loneliness after she was gone, sounds and sights and feelings flooded my mind, overwhelming every other thought, every other desire, every other instinct.  I was, in that moment, nothing but hers.

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About Nicole Fuhrman

I like run-ons. And as a former Language Arts teacher, I should be appalled. But I teach Science now, so it's ok. Oh, I also like to start sentences with conjunctions. NBD.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Relationships, Short Stories, Stories and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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