She danced on tiptoe the whole way home. Years of nightmares wiped away in an instant.
Donald was surely the man of her dreams. Handsome. Strong. Kind. Devoted to family. Well-worn photos he carried showed his longing for home.
She had pinched herself. I'm living the dream, man meets woman. Man and woman live happily ever after. In America.
The few months seemed like a lifetime. Walking. Laughing. Dreaming. Spending precious time together.
But today, today the dream ended. She had searched for him. Gone. Without warning. Without notice. His company had shipped out that morning. To America. Without her.
It's been a long week. If you've been following along, you know that we buried my hub's Uncle Donald this week, and along with him, we buried an unsolved mystery that has captivated us all. To catch up on the story, you might want to read my posts from Thursday and Friday.
I hadn't planned to write any more about it, but then Mrs. Jenny gave us the perfect prompt (in red above) for this week's Saturday Centus, so how could I resist? Our instructions: exactly 100 words, including the prompt.
With a few more words, I probably would have written of Donald's anguish when he was ordered to pack up and move out with no possibility of telling the young woman. At least, that's how it played out in my mind. Like that of the two star-crossed lovers whose dreams were not to be, my imagined story had to be cut short.
Be sure to check out what the other Centusians are dreaming about this week by clicking here.