Bath

The prompt was bath.

love-romantic-bath-candlelight

 

Candlelight glimmering. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back to rest against the back of the copper tub.

He lifts the heavy bowl of warm water and tips it over her head, careful to make sure the water flows over her long, lustrous hair instead of over her face.

He runs his hands through each lock, squeezing the lavender-smelling suds out of it. The water gleams with soothing, scented oils.

She opens her brown eyes, meeting his black ones. He doesn’t smile; neither does she. There is no need for it.

They know to whom they each belong.

 

©2018 Heather Stephens

To Fly

pexels-photo-26739

 

Whenever I’d ask her about her hopes and dreams, she’d always say that she wished to fly. But women are not made for the skies. They must be grounded, sincere. That’s what

I

told

her.

She never wanted to hear it. She would brush me off, telling me that I didn’t understand. So

I

told

her

that she would never be happy until she learned to choose happiness. She discarded my advice like it was irrelevant to her. When, finally,

I

told

her

that I wanted to marry her, she laughed. She walked away as if she couldn’t hear me.

 

 

 

©2017 Heather Stephens