Losing Hope — Flash Fiction


She rubbed her sunken eyes with the heels of her withered hands.

Why, oh why wouldn’t they come?

She moaned out loud and sank down on the wrought iron bed.

How long had she been waiting? Hours?

It seemed like days.

Her hope was dwindling.

She ambled away from the bed over to the large plate-glass window where, unthinking, she pressed her forehead against the glass. At once, she quickly moved away and erased her makeup smudges from the glass with a rag that she kept in her cardigan.

There. Perfect, as usual.

“Come on, come on…” she urged as each headlight passed by on the busy highway. “Why won’t they come?”

It was cold on the inside. Too cold for her, but just right for her guests who would be coming in from the oppressive August heat.

But where were they? It was getting late, and no one had shown up all evening. She looked at her watch and sighed. It had been a long, lonely day, and she was so weary of waiting.

Finally, it was over. Her wait was over for the day. Maybe they would come tomorrow.

She went to the back and locked up the cash for the day. After switching off all of the lights, she locked the door behind her.

As she backed her car out of the lot, she glanced once more at the neon sign that indicated that her failing business, Mattress Emporium, was put to bed for another day.


Big shout out to Fiddle_stix_n_picks_945, an eBay seller who allowed me to us the bed picture. You can find their deals at http://stores.ebay.com/discountdealsandseals . Thanks so much!