Six Sentence Sunday

They gazed into each others eyes as lovers often do. Chatted in low tones while I watched heartbroken in a daze. I gawked at the natural way in which Ricardo coiled his fingers with hers and the effortless sensual flow of them.
Absentminded, they rubbed knees while ogling at the menu, as though second nature. I remember we were that effortless, that natural.
A soft moan escaped me at the ease of them, how open and loving. I wished he was still mine, wished the hand of time could turn back so we could forgo the incident.


There is creative reading as well as creative writing
                                                            Ralph Waldo Emerson