Thank You

So Flash 31 is over, and I just want to thank everyone who got involved, whether it was by submitting flash fictions or taking the time to read ours. We really appreciate it. Hopefully we'll be able to do this again soon (and not wait a whole year again) so stay tuned for updates!

Blue Jeans by Sara Travis

“We don’t need the money. We can make it all work,” she says.

“I know you think we don’t need it, but we do. I do,” he says.

She sighs. She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. She stands in the doorway, he sits on the sofa, one leg pulled up over the other. He doesn’t look at her. He can’t bring himself to. She’s glad. She knows that if he looks at her she’ll melt, and all the troubles won’t matter anymore because she loves him, and he loves her, and when you love someone you can forget all the bad stuff as long as you have each other. But this is really bad stuff, and she doesn’t think she can forget.

“There are other ways of making money. Safer ways. I don’t like this, you know I don’t like it. We don’t need it, we can manage.”

“Why should we have to manage? Why do we have to live our lives just ‘getting by’? We deserve more than that. You deserve more than that. And I can give it to you.”

She risks a glance in his direction in spite of herself. He’s picking at the frayed hem on his jeans, still avoiding her eyes. She lets her arms drop to her sides.

“I don’t want the money, I want you.”

“And I want to do this for you! It’s all for you, you know that. You’ve always known that.”

“Don’t put this on me,” she says, her voice breaking slightly, “I’ve never asked you for anything, I will never ask you for anything. I don’t need the stuff, we don’t need it. It’s just paper; you’re chasing paper. But I’m real, I’m here and I’m yours. We’re in this together. We can still walk away from this and we’ll be okay.”

He stands and walks to the doorway, stopping in front of her. He takes her hands in his and before she’s aware of it, she’s lost herself to his deep, hazel eyes.

“I can’t walk away. I won’t. I want to do this for you. For us. You’ll see, when we’ve got the money and we’re out of here, somewhere far away from here, you’ll see that it was worth it.”

He places his lips to her cheek and walks straight past her, out the door, without a backwards glance. And suddenly the room is colder, emptier than it was before, and she knows, somehow she knows in her gut, in her heart, that she’ll never see him again. He’s gone, and he’s taken a part of her with him.