no tomorrow

It was as if every ounce of joy and hope had been drained out of me. I was a dead man at seventeen.

“I am not expecting anything from you. You are free to go.” We both knew I was not.

“Dammit Lisa, I’m gonna be a lawyer!” There was no point denying my disappointment and regret.

Her eyes, red and swollen ugly from crying, widened like saucers. “I…I already said you were free to go, Ray…I…” A huge sob fest followed. “I…hate you!”

Great. Like I didn’t already hate both her and me. Dammit.

I scanned the open field. A hundred meters away, half a dozen kids played kickball. Good thing we weren’t at the pizza place; this would’ve caused a racket. We were like a friggin’ soap opera scene.

“Listen. I gotta go for a while, okay? I need time to, uh, think this through.”

More sobbing.

“I gotta think…I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you.”

I couldn’t wait for her answer. I turned and I ran as fast as I could, neither knowing nor caring where I was headed.

Lisa was pregnant. Tomorrow was gone.


A fresh snippet for my work-in-progress. Writing prompt, “no tomorrow,” courtesy of Inspiration Monday πŸ™‚


11 thoughts on “no tomorrow

  1. A great story and some emotional dialogue.
    Just shows that however much you try to map out the future you are never sure as to what surprises are waiting just round the corner.
    Thanks for a great read.

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