Scars Of A Broken Bond

A woman graced the stage, her voice twining with the lyrics of a folk song.

As Sabrina took a seat at the bar, the bartender asked, “What can I get you, miss?”

A quick reality check reminded her that she was expecting. “A Sprite, please,”

The bartender was left momentarily speechless.

He thought she was kidding, but he still brought a bottle of Sprite for

Sabrina. “Enjoy your drink.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina replied, securing her drink and finding a secluded spot. She settled into her chair, her gaze focused on the singer on the stage, her mind adrift with thoughts.

me through the summer’s song of cicadas, beyond the city’s

in a constant wait for you. I really miss you, in every rainy season. What you choose to discard

expressing my love. My story is all about

extraordinary, just ordinary. Perhaps due to the small audience,

eyes welled up and her heart ached with the

chose this

observed Tyrone’s journey from a naive college boy

a beacon in her murky existence, and

muddied and bruised,

their three-year marriage, she had fought