|Found on Google Images|
FLASH FICTION PROMPT
A dozen different things ran through my mind when I saw her.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me again--the useless old things. But I remembered and I forgot, in the very same instance.
So many different things. So many different times.
So much. So little.
How I miss her. On days like these, I miss her the most.
Because the day I saw her die was the very last day of my life.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me--troublesome things--for a dozen different moments ran through my mind when I saw her.
(c) Sara Harricharan