#1WordPromptChallenge Day 19: Drought
Once you lost the battle against the will to not cry, it was only a matter of time before you could no longer do it. Even if you wanted to. Even if it seemed like the only thing that was going to keep you from exploding apart. For the second time in her life, Kahrin couldn’t make something happen by the sheer power of her cuss-headedness. She couldn’t make the summer last indefinitely, and she couldn’t squeeze even one more tear from her face.
Kahrin stopped running and flopped onto the grass in front of the farmhouse. She missed Innes so much. He might as well have moved to the moon for how far away he seemed, and to make matters worse, she was sure he was the only one who could cheer her up, and at the moment she was unwilling to entertain the possibility that she would ever feel right again.
Her phone vibrated against her leg and she answered before she saw the silly selfie he’d assigned for his own number. “Shouldn’t you be curing cancer?”
“Shouldn’t you be running?”
She lifted her feet off the ground and bicycled them above her. “I totally am.”
“I thought I recognized the heavy breathing.” He chuckled. “I realized, what if I do? Cure cancer, I mean. The world league of cancer doctors might not let me just call you and tell you.”
“Well you’d better tell them how cranky I get if I’m not the first to know something.” She grinned, her sorrows of a moment ago forgotten.
“Thankfully I have a few years before that’s a true concern.” She let a laugh. “Which probably means I should drive home this weekend so we can work out a plan, hm?”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean, if you insist.”
“Oh, well, if you’re busy—“
“I’m not!” She shot up to sitting, knowing it was too late to play it cool.
“I’ll see you Friday?”
“Friday.”
©b.r. hill-mann 2019
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