The table was set for seven, but not a single person had arrived. The round twinkle lights still glowed, but they illuminated only dried-up hopes and empty chairs. The hostess had retreated to the deck, and she’d likely leave the mess until tomorrow. She’d worked so hard to pull this dinner together.
Yet no one came.
Perhaps it wasn’t their fault.
Maybe something truly had come up. An emergency, perchance? Something dire that
would give solid footing for their excuses?
Or maybe they were just all running
late.
Continue the story on AndreaReneeCox.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment