Visiting Day
"Darling."
The thin figure lay curled up, facing the moonlit, barred window. Long, moon-white fingers, glowing almost, reached up to caress the grey-streaked, curly brown hair.
"Hermione."
The figure sighed but didn't answer.
"Hermione. I'll not be coming back, my precious," the seated figure whispered. "I just – I cannot. It's killing me…not knowing. If you're even there." Before rising to depart, the owner of the soft voice bent and choked into the woman's hair, "But I love you. I always will."
The room was quiet save for her rapid, bird-like breaths - and one muffled cry of mourning.
SilentG
101
gnat67@telus.net