He waited for her by the docks, kept hoping she would show to at least say goodbye. “I’m sorry,” he recalled her saying a week before, “I can’t go with you.”
“But why not?” He asked softly.
“I’m not like you. I’m tied to here. I have my family. I have roots, ones I can’t abandon.” She sucked in a deep breath, probably to control her tears. “When are you leaving?”
She nodded, “I hope your journey is safe and sound.”
He pursed his lips as if he was trying hard to come up with the words to say. “Will you at least be there to say goodbye?”
“I’ll try.” She shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “Um, I better go. Lots of research to do.”
Standing on the deck of his boat, he checked his watch. Time to go. Slowly, he jammed the key into its slot and turned. Then slowly and carefully, he maneuvered the boat away from the dock and out to sea.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.