This was written on the prompt Wind ( slashthedrabble)
The answer, my friend...
He's gone.
I saw him. He stood in the alley, his back to the cabin, his back to me. Sand-colored locks were flying in the breeze.
I could have answered him.
The wind is whisking the sand off the floor, bringing it back, again and again.
I saw him walking towards the road, barefoot, carrying his shoes.
I could have told him.
The wind was blowing, wirling, again and again, erasing footprints, mercilessly.
I saw him by the roadside, putting his shoes on, his back to the cabin, his back to me, and walking away. Sand-colored locks were flying in the breeze.
I could have called him.
The wind is whisking the sand off the floor, bringing it back, again and again.
"I love you."
He smiled gently, picked up his shoes, and left.
I could have called him, told him, answered him.
The sand is flowing through my hopeless fingers, swept along by the wind.
I whisper in the breeze, again and again.
The words are flowing through my powerless lips, swept along by the wind.
"I love you."
Fingers are squeezing mine, holding back the sand.
Lips are brushing mine, holding back the words.
He's here.