She did not need to read the tattered letter in her hand. She knew the words by heart:
My dearest Daisy;
How I have missed you! Time away from you has been torture. All I want is to hear your voice and feel you in my arms. You will be glad to know that I have permission to come home. I arrive at the bus station at 4:00 pm on Friday. Counting the days until we meet again, I am faithfully yours….”
Daisy sits on the wooden bench nearest the doors, intently watching as passengers hurry to find those who wait for them. She notices a young couple eagerly embrace, holding on to the moment for as long as they can. Smiling, they walk away, hand in hand.
The old clock tower chimes four times It won’t be long now, she thinks. Any minute and I will see his face.
As shadows began to fall, Daisy realizes that her lover will not arrive today. As she has done hundreds of times before, Daisy picks up the small suitcase that holds all she owns and walks toward the homeless shelter, three blocks away. There is always next Friday.
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a short 200-word story inspired by a photograph. This week’s photo is provided by c.e. ayr