Ficly

Toe the line

He swayed in the icy wind gusts. His watch slid down his forearm while he stretched his hands into the gray sky. Feeling the numb cold of the coming storm in his toes, he edged them forward across the ledge until they wiggled above nothing.

The city lights shined at him across the river and glittered across the rough surface of the waters. Twinkling aircraft on landing approaches lazily glided through the darkening sky and he remembered her.

The street below was close enough to hear their voices as they gawked but far enough away that he couldn’t make out their conversations. It was better this way. It was better not to know what they were saying about him. It wouldn’t matter soon.

Her face appeared in the corner of his eye. He turned and she wasn’t there as she had been so consistently for so long. His mind could conjure her back to life in his peripheral quite frequently but nowhere else.

On the sidewalk, the crowd of couples and bystanders watched the strangest Valentine’s Day they would ever know.

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