by Gary Hewitt
I smell nought but the breeze laced with salt. Electricity flashes a fey light upon this darkest night. My eyes glance to the stars. One stares back.
I lower myself onto a blanket and gaze at heaven. Old memories…painful memories stir within.
I remember the time when we first walked to this beach and named our star. I remember the time when I walked here alone for the first time after she’d gone. I swear the light glows ever brighter since she left.
12.01 and 48 seconds. Three years to the day exactly.
I get up drying my eyes.
Gary Hewitt has been writing for around five or six years. He has had success with stories being accepted in Morphues Tales, Twisted Tongue, Smokebox and also several anthologies.
The Pygmy Giant 