Post 1625. Tuesday January 30
A pinch of his fingers and the flame went out, the heady scent of lilies that moments earlier filled the room repressed by the reek of smokey tallow.
He sat back and sighed.
Days, weeks, months he’d waited. A vigil beside her bed. Did she know he was there? Could she sense the sadness he felt?
There she lay in a tangle of wires and tubes like a discarded puppet. No. It wasn’t fair, not on her, not on him. It was pointless. ‘Why?’ he wondered.
‘Why not?’ he thought. So he did.
Then he stood and felt his way across the darkened room, into the hallway and out into the street. The glistening sun assaulted his weary eyes and a blanket of warmth embraced him; welcomed him to a new beginning.
What became of him nobody knows. He just left, never to be seen again.
Word count 149
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Priceless Joy and this week’s photo prompt is by Goroyboy.