Dear Elena,
He's out. She's gone.
He promised he wasn't high
When he grabbed her little hand and spin her around
And laughed with her when she realised he had come.
I could see it in his eyes.
He bought her a chocolate cookie
And she ate it quickly.
He bought me a beer.
They left without dely
And retreated to their little apartment.
I miss her already.
Love, Ida
YOU ARE READING
Ida
Short StoryIda Whitney- A twenty four year old 911 operator in Eugene by day, and a crumbling lie by night.
