Jessy and Franklin had been kindred spirits since their formative years. They’d clicked, no need to try, it was there.  They spoke the same language in everything except romance going their separate ways but remained close though lovers had come and gone over the years.

Jessie smiled picturing them together sitting on the beach, or rocking in chairs on the porch, sometimes quibbling over the latest music, politics, latest triends, teasing each other about any and everything.

He was her port in the storm as she was his.  They could talk about anything and agree to disagree more often than not, throwing their hands in the air.  She’d muss Franklin’s hair, if he still had any, and bring up past events, the more embarrassing the better.  No doubt he’d do the same. Good times ahead still.

While she was contemplating the delectability of their future a knock sounded at the door.  She found two officers standing there. The question on her mind readily apparent on her face.

“Jessie Rowlands?”


“Can we come in please?”

“We’re sorry to inform you Franklin Robinson has been in a fatal accident.”  Her world suddenly shattered into a million tiny little pieces.





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