The girls trickle in one at a time, congregating for their customary visitation. My friends keep their distance even though I’d gladly have them close. The sullen expressions and awkward silence feel wrong.

Words come slowly: first regrets, then jokes and memories of better times. I love their laughter but prefer their silence. I’m still the glue that holds them together. Now I’m also the inevitable.

I’d happily join in on their banter, but I can’t speak their language. When they leave with the sun in their eyes and the wind on their faces, here I will lie, going to pieces.

Ashley M. Hill found her voice in science fiction when her curiosity about technology coupled with the lifelong urge to tell stories. Her interest in social and feminist issues shapes how she approaches the genre. She's pursuing computer and network repair for her day job.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.