Waking alone she realized it was true. He was gone for good. And it was her fault. “If only’s…’ If only she hadn’t gotten drunk. If only Ronnie hadn’t popped in. If only Jonno wasn’t late. If only they hadn’t fought that morning. If only…Gaby watched the droplets trickle down the window, some picking up others on the way, making them fatter and faster. The clouds formed a ceiling of churning grey. She stared until her coffee was cold and her hunger chased her to dress.

Everything was altered. The crying baby didn’t pull sympathy from her. Neither did the starving stray. Cold rain brushed her neck and tickled her back until she shivered. Gaby walked faster than the cars were moving on the bridge. Bored eyes watched her go past. And then forgot her.

In the middle of the bridge was an alcove, a lookout point. Beneath her feet was a grate and she could see the roaring black water. The river smelled dank and dirty. She looked over the side, cold wind flicked her hair into her eyes, out, in again. Her coat didn’t do much to keep her warm but it would certainly help drag her down into the water.

Nimbly she stepped over the railing and fell. Her arms stretched wide like she was welcoming death. She was.

No-one saw. The small splash and hole in the water was instantly swallowed.

She wasn’t cold or sad anymore.

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Writer, Mother, Grandmother and Wife.

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