richarddavidson avatar

by

Before dawn, he slipped the door closed, tightening his tie, smoothing potential wrinkles from his slack, patting his pockets for keys, wallet, cell phone, walked to his sleek black BMW, tugging at his wedding ring.

Pausing at the curb, cringed at the water from the grass on his loafers, still tugged at his stubborn ring, trying to twist it free. Grimacing, he finally finessed it off, but it slipped through his fingers. Clutching for it, horrified. Not quick enough. It bounced once, disappeared down a storm drain.

"Fuck!" He spat. A lazy black drizzle began to fall from the sky.

Be the first to comment

Sign up or Sign in to leave a comment on this drabble.