Microfiction #11 – Heartbreak at the Corner of a Non-Parallel Continuum

Bob left the restaurant with specks of scarlet drinks blooming through his shirt. He stopped by the sidewalk and slowly got soaked under the fine light rain in that sorrowful late evening.

He sighed, turned around and took a look back at Alice. She was sobbing into her napkins and still sitting tight at the comfy dining table for two he had reserved a week or two before.

Alice couldn’t understand. They had shared lots of memories together and he had understood her so very well, from favourite foods to her deepest fears. And now he was saying it’s all over out of the blue.

She had fallen in love so hard. Too quick.

But so would she, out of it.

“I had cried just as hard five years from now.. over and over again,” muttered Bob in misty-eyed. “No, harder.”

Drenched in the rain, he hurriedly continued walking without looking back this time and went to a dark corner not far from the restaurant.

Stood in the dark corner was an idling, camouflaged time machine. Bob got inside it and went back to the future.

He left it once and for all, not just to be forgotten, but also never will have remembered of what had been and of what once was.

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