They were in separate rooms living similar lives.
The floor creaked at 2AM, he left again.
It sounds crazy yet she named him Jalfrezi.
The door flew open revealing confusion, hesitation, grief.
From flying paper planes to helicopters on Mars.
Dreaming of vaccines,
Dreaming of freedom,
Spring flowers, blue skies, her sources of joy.
Goodbye Steve! Someday hope our paths cross again.
They held hands and slept through the storm.
The perfectly kneaded bread burnt in the oven.
If you have an eight word short story or poem to share, then please share them with me and the community in the comment section below. I would love to read them! ❤️