It was late and the human sounds that hummed during the day had retired, inviting the frogs and cicadas to fill the silence with their nighttime melodies. He had given up on sleep and decided to walk down to the lake. He slipped on his boat shoes but left his crumpled t-shirt on the unmade bed. He needed to breathe the honeysuckle scent filling the night air. He needed to feel air on his skin. He needed to feel her on his skin. He tried to push those thoughts aside and think about his work – the reason he was in the southern state of Georgia. His attempts failed. He was tired and had no control over his wandering mind…
Click here to finish reading my flash fiction honeysuckle story, written for and published by Gobblers/Masticadores. They have been publishing my work for several months now. An honor and a treat! Thanks for visiting and reading. Enjoy! Be well.💗Michele
Photos by James Wheeler and Pixabay (Pexels)
© 2021 Michele Lee Sefton.