Gemma was having another restless night.
I felt her toss and turn endlessly.
I knew there was little I could do.
She paused for a moment and I sensed the tension in the bedroom dissipating slightly.
Her breathing slowed.
Then suddenly she released a strange tormented squeal.
“No! Someone save him!” she cried.
I reached over for her hand. It was moist and sticky.
I squeezed it gently and she awoke abruptly with wild staring eyes.
“I had the same nightmare again.”
Her voice was broken.
I nuzzled her hair softly.
“We were on the beach, watching Daniel drown, and there was this huge stone statue of a giant, carved in the rock supporting a pathway on its back.”
She sobbed, “It was laughing as Daniel was dragged away by the currents.”
Its never going to go away I thought. Even after 50 years. That fateful seaside trip, the three of us playing on the beach and the dreadful accident.
And then we were just two, united by love and by the grief that comes back regularly to haunt us.
An intriguing photo prompt from ©momtheobscure for this weeks Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers!