When everything was ready he said, let us start the party.
But she was uncertain, is that Sun peeping through those bottles.
No, it is the new light.
No, it is Sun. I know and I don’t like it.
Why are you doing this? Why do you create a scene every time I invite my friends?
But why is Sun peeping through those bottles?
He held her. She was shivering.
He was the only child we had after sixteen years and you won’t even cry.
Only he knew that he had been crying ever since. But he hated telling her.
Word Count 100 words.
This post is part of Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/09/24/26-september-2014/