Waiting for Him

the prompt for this piece was a simple phrase "Waiting for him"

It seemed so long since she entered the car, with two of her friends but still all alone. Now, so many days later, months, actually, she was exiting the car, this time all on her own. She twisted the edge of her skirt in between her fingers nervously. She twirled her hair, now inches longer than before, past her shoulders instead of at her jaw line. She scratched the back of her neck, her nails longer than ever and painted a lime green, while looking around for her target.

Would they recognize each other? How much can a person change in a matter of months? Even though she waited for him, and would continue to wait forever for him no matter what, how long could the joy of his return last?

She finally saw him, exactly as she knew him, just a little weary, tired from the flight, and her face lit up with pure joy. She ran towards him with wild abandon, she had waited so long for this moment.

He dropped his bag and it was like the photo from 1945 that she'd always seen but never understood until this moment. Their arms wrapped around each other, and they just stood frozen in time, not in the chemicals of a photo flash, but in the pure bliss that is being with your heart's desire after any length of separation.

She knew in those moments standing, intertwined so still as if to be statues, that her happiness would never diminish, she would never feel less for him, there would be no end to this moment's feelings.

Author's Note

This is a snapshot of "a moment in the life of" sort of view

Reviews

[Linda Stinson]

Lovely words with true meaning "waiting for him," isn't that what we all do anyway is wait on men...hehehe. I know you didn't mean it like that. This is a short but meaningful story. Seems to me you could add a little more description to the wait, or maybe a little more longing in the wait.
All in all, there was a moment there. I felt it.