Wearing the unaffected, dreary clothes she wore yesterday as she holds the identical brown haired baby and as she wears the unchanged expression on her striking, adolescent face, she has come yet again. Waiting and looking and when not even an abandoned tumbleweed is around she leaves, day after day, all day she arrives, waits, then leaves. I feel remorseful for her as she returns every day because thinking you have lost someone is heartbreaking, I remember one day she arrived late and there was a man waiting and looking around, as she walked up slowly I almost thought that man was who was waiting for, but he strolled straight past her and into the arms of another, as she turned and looked at the happy couple, a betrayal tear slid slowly down her face, she stood and watched after the couple, wishing that was her and her husband.
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Author's Note:
Hi this is my first story I have ever written
Written from a war poem called Homecoming by Bruce Donald Dawn
Photo: the idea of clothes the woman is wearing
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Lady In Waiting (War Poem Short Story)
Ficción históricaCasting my eyes upon a young brown haired girl, she reminded me of a young woman who returned every day to these exact docks, as she waited for her lover to return from the ridiculous phenomenon called war. In the bitter cold of winter, in the warmt...
