Into the Fire

                    (From my work in progress: Seeing . . . )

PART THREE

Chapter 59    

     He dreaded turning into the driveway, getting home, facing the reality of more time alone. As pathetic as it felt, while he drove slowly up the asphalt, he chided himself for actually holding out a thread of hope he might still see the Honda parked there. But he did not. And the emptiness slammed him as if he hadn’t expected it.

     Packing his stuff onto the porch, he unlocked the door and walked into loneliness waiting for him like an old friend except it wasn’t. Right now it was more like an armed intruder ready to hold him hostage to his loss. Again.

Father, any words, scenes, pictures, stories, I might write that come out well, just right, moving, and/or touching is all you. Apart from you, I can do nothing. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.