We were together.
I forget the rest.
She lay awake. It was too early for sleep and her body knew that. Betraying her brain.
She was bone tired.
Turning off the television, she let the remote fall to the floor, thinking she would probably step on it in the morning. As she started to reach down for it, the tendons in her shoulder screamed out and she pulled her arm back up and rolled into that side. She really needed to book an appointment with her physiotherapist, it had been going on for far too long.
Remote control forgotten, she lay back, absently flexing her shoulder muscles on that painful side and gave in to her thoughts. She had a huge day ahead of her, which was why she had turned in early but she couldn’t help it… She kept seeing flashes of him, of their last time together. Even though it was dark and the day was over, she could see the dappled morning sunlight flashing over his skin. She could see his hand reaching up to move her hair back from her face. She could feel the pressure building low in her body as she remembered the movement of his skin against hers. The searing heat of their bodies touching against the coolness of the hotel sheets. She wished the service hadn’t changed the sheets today, she wanted to smell his scent, imagine the warmth of him where it no longer existed.
She turned on her side, her forearm brushing against her breast and inhaled sharply at the feeling of electricity shooting through her body at the touch. The memory of him was so clear, so sharp, she felt as if she could reach out and touch him.
But he was gone. She would never see him again. They had promised each other that it was the last time.
She would never forget.
For this Finding Everyday Inspiration Post, we are asked to use an “epigraph” – a short quotation at the beginning of a book or piece of writing. I saw this one from Walk Whitman on Instagram recently: “We were together. I forget the rest.”
So, this is what I came up with. I hope you liked it.