It’s Monday so that means it’s time for a piece of flash fiction. Yay! Remember the rules…the piece is based on a picture prompt and the word count must be less than 500 words. Here’s a link to the group so you can see what other author’s have posted.
I was really happy with this week’s picture—lots of good ideas about this one!
Avery was inspired to write a story on it. Hope you enjoy…
End of the Line
Bryce watched the tail end of the departing train fade from view, left alone on the platform with his backpack and Smartphone.
Eliot would come. He’d promised Bryce on the phone last night. Maybe he’d missed his train and had to take a later one? Maybe the train had a mechanical issue and he’d had to find alternate transportation. He’d arrive soon, surely.They’d only spent one night together, but it had been special. As goofy as it sounded, they’d made a soul-deep connection. This trip was to be the start of building a lasting friendship and a loving relationship. With any luck, Bryce would convince Eliot to transfer schools, move in with him, and finish his master’s.
Bryce pulled up Eliot’s last email. He’d have to make due with the heartfelt words until he saw the man again, in the flesh.
A silly smile lit his eyes. Eliot had written, describing in great detail all the naughty things he expected Bryce to do upon his return. So many positions…so many places… Bryce hardened in his jeans just thinking about the possibilities. He shifted positions on the platform.
A discarded newspaper blew across the tracks, startling Bryce. His cheeks felt warm and were undoubtedly pink. Time to return to the present. He closed the email and opened a new text message, shooting off yet another hope everything’s ok, miss you message to the tall, lean, dark-haired man, with the forest green eyes, he loved. Yep, there it was…love. While he knew it was too soon to feel love for Eliot, he couldn’t help himself. He just knew, end of story. No doubts, no questions, no uncertainty.
Raking a hand through his already disheveled curls, Bryce closed the cover on his phone and stretched out his legs. Crossing his feet, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Staring at the empty platform wouldn’t make Eliot appear. It would be ridiculous to keep his phone “awake” and drain what little was left of the battery. He’d set the volume high enough he’d hear the alert if a text arrived.
Where could he be? Why had he missed his train? Sleep overtook him before he could focus more energy on his negative thoughts.
Something warm squeezed his shoulder. Bryce tried to shake it off. He wanted to stay asleep. Warm kisses peppered his jaw before something brushed his lower lip. Uncoordinated from sleeping, Bryce tried unsuccessfully to bat away the teasing touch.
“Are you always so stubborn? Come now, sweetheart, wake up and take me home.”
That voice…he recognized the faint Boston accent. Eliot. Was he still dreaming? Or…slowly he opened his eyes. His obsession knelt beside him.
“You made it,” Bryce’s voice was thick.
“Of course. There’s a long story as to why I’m over three hours late, but it can wait until we get home.”
Home. Bryce sure liked the sound of that.