Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Two Hundred and Thirty-Eight

There were butterflies in the garden, and the air was filled with the drone of bees and the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle. Annis sat back on her heels and sighed. Five years ago today the last man had come back to the farm.

All home safe. Except her Tom.

As she thought of his name, a shadow fell across her and she looked up into remembered pale blue eyes.

“Tom. My lover. But ain’t you dead?”

“I am. And if you comes with me you will be too.”

She put her hand in his and stepped out of her body.

©️jj 2019

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