There is a Light That Sometimes Goes On
He takes your hand; pulls you from the car that his father has lent him just this once because you’re young and falling in love for the first time.
On the shore where you played together with crabs in a bucket, there’s a midnight tide of electric blue that speaks of magic. While you’re already dreaming of sapphires and children, he grins and says,
You know in that moment that he will thrill you on the back seat, whisper tenderly ‘forever,’ and mean it, but you’ll never be enough to keep him in this run-down town of one-night phenomena.
This story was shortlisted in the February 2022 Monthly Micro Competition.
About the author: Julia Ruth Smith is a mother, teacher and writer who lives by the sea in Italy. She has recently been published by Versification, Virtual Zine, Free Flash Fiction and Zero Readers. She is on Twitter @JuliaRuthSmith1