Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Three Hundred and Fifty-Seven

She was as thin and frail as an autumn leaf and as she sat in the window the sunlight almost shone through her. It couldn’t, he knew, be long before she was called to her rest and his heart felt leaden in his chest.

She laid her face against his one last time, and he felt the life leave her body.

Almost blinded by tears, he picked her up and held her to his chest, walking carefully to where he knew the last portal awaited her. 

He should have put her down, but he walked on through.

He never returned…

©jj 2019

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