Rochelle picked a beauty this week for her hundred-word flash fiction prompt. Click the link below the story to see the other entries.
“I’m not going.”
He set his lip in that way he had. The stubborn lip, she called it.
“Chas, that’s nonsense. You love it. Besides, they can’t play Bix without their cornetist. They’re counting on you.”
He shook his head. She stood, came to him. She laid her hand on his cheek.
His eyes pooled, but he wiped them on his cuff before they could spill.
“What’s the point, Gracie? I really don’t see the point anymore.”
“My dear man,” she cooed. “My dear, dear man. The point is to keep on going just as we have been. That’s all.”