Skip to main content

Forgotten Love, A love that lasts forever.

     He sat alone, waiting, but for what he didn’t know. He felt it would be a good day to wait, to hope, that he would finally meet her.
She had come here every morning for breakfast for weeks, her dark her bouncing in loose curls down her back as she walked through the doors. Finally he plucked up the courage to talk to her.
That is the day she disappeared, he no longer saw her big brown eyes still sleepy in the early sunlight, he could barely remember her olive skin, smooth and soft. Her voice rang tauntingly in his mind.
     “Black coffee and strawberry pancakes please.”
He snapped open his weary eyes to once again realise his mind was playing cruel tricks on him.
     Maybe her shifts had simply been changed, maybe her work started later. Maybe, just maybe if he waited until 3pm he’d see her walk gracefully through the doors.
But what if she had moved house, moved town or even worse, moved country. His heart pounded at the thought, he shook his head understanding how silly he must sound, he’s never even talked to her after all. She’s never even looked in his direction.
Again he’s pulled at his own heart as his eyes filled with tears.
       “Don’t be stupid,” he shakes it off. Muttering to himself, his trembling hand wrapped around his coffee and he goes to take a sip.

    “Mr Jacks, excuse me. You need to come with us, you don’t belong here.” A voice rang through his occupied mind.
His eyes shot open, he glanced around. His eyes fell upon two people, two men to be exact, in light blue clothes. Their eyes warm and caring.
   “But she’ll be here anytime now.” He cried.     “Don’t take me away so soon.”
   “She’s not coming, Sir, please come back with us. We will take care of you” the gentle voice chimed again.
    “Just 10 more minutes I’m sure she’ll arrive.” He begged once more.
They shook their head and helped him up, there was no point in fighting, his body shook once it bared his weight. And they helped him out the door.
   “Your wife died 10 years ago,Sir. Please understand she won’t come, now let’s get you back home, to the warm care home.” The kind man on his right said.
   “I’ll write a note, tonight I’ll give it to you, will you bring it here for me?” The old man questioned, his heart breaking.
   “Of course, good sir, of course.”


Popular posts from this blog

Over The Bridge

The dark, cold river reminded me of a deep black abyss, flowing rough and fast as I stand watching it from the wooden bridge. I have stood here many times before but never have I felt the dread I feel tonight. My heart thumping hard enough I can hear it, but it was not the only thing I can hear. The voice whispering to me,  “You must do it.” It laughs. My hands shake as I puff on my cigarette, my hair brushing my face in the gentle wind. It is a warm night but still a shiver ran down my spine, I look down, deep into the water. A dancing silhouette under the dingy water called to me. “Join me.” It sings, it’s voice welcoming and warm. The empty bottle of pills on the floor beside me is blurring a little. The starry sky above lit the landscape I was looking onto beautifully. Sadness filling my stomach along with a severe burning sensation I assume is the tablets I had just swallowed. I close my eyes leaning over the metal railings of the bridge. My mothers face lit up my blank mind, she smi…

Who in the world am I?

Who am I?
It's a simple question, with an infinite amount of answers. So lets start with the basics;

I'm Nicole A Preedy, I write, I read, I kick ass.

I write a whole load of crazy crap, but I do have my fair share of stories to tell, as a fiction writer my ideas are always coming, and never leaving. As well, of course, the inspirational quote!
I write Thrillers, Romance and Horror. Though I can be quite funny!

Why do you care? Simple answer is YOU DON'T. 

Complex answer? You are bored, you want to read something, something that will make you laugh, cry, bite your lip in anticipation or think deep into the logic of a made up murderer.

So, you're asking, what the hell is next.

EXACTLY, Hell is next, a few stories, HORROR, stories, based on Ghosts, Demons, Monsters and even the Devil himself well, I like to call him Lucifer since were on a first name basis! As well as the lovable and heart wrenching love stories!

Keep your eyes open for the first STORY to be feasted up…