His Choice

The last strains

of sunlight

lingered

in the corners,

grasping every available

point of refraction.

She slid her fingertips

Along the glass

wondering

if this was all

     there ever was.

          Or could be.

An extension of her,

the glass

warmed to her touch.

Fresh tears

surged, besieged-

she knew “I do”

had  been said.

Snifter of amber

consoled, cajoled

while he toasted

     his life

     with Elizabeth.

~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-~~~-

Please note that this is fiction.  My husband has not chosen to marry a woman named Elizabeth (to my knowledge, at least ) and I’m not pining for some man who has made such a choice.  The truth about this this piece is that it’s my response to the Trifecta weekend challenge.  Here’s how the Trifecta editors presented it:

For this weekend’s challenge, we’d like you to read the 33 words below and then add 33 of your own words to move the story along. Have a great weekend and good luck!

The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.

So, the italicized portion of the poem is the paragraph provided by Trifecta (I didn’t change any words or punctuation, so I think it still counts!) and the last portion is my continuation, in 33 words.

If you want to try your hand at the challenge, check out Trifecta’s site by clicking on the Tricycle picture.  There you will find all the info you need to give it a go.  Thanks for reading!