She lay on her side in the semi-dark room; barely breathing; right leg dangling off the edge of the bed as if she might make a break for it at any moment. The television a dull white noise, as if hummingbirds were endlessly whirling their wings.
Trapped beneath the heavy arm he wrapped around her, she clings to fifteen inches of the king sized bed she shares with her husband of decades. His breath whistles slightly, warming her neck; his body conforms to hers, as it has every night since the first. Tonight, just as every night she will be sleepless as he dreams; of what she wonders, not her.
Tomorrow he will hug her and smile as he leaves for work. She is lonely after all these years, possessiveness doesn’t equal love, she learned. Someday her right foot will hit the ground and she will run like the wind.
Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the amazing Red of M3 fame. This week’s word is Lonely. The word limit for January is 150 words. This one comes in precisely at 150.