Photo by Nathan Powers on Unsplash
Rob’s phone started ringing relentlessly. Dismayed, didn’t deduce it. He left the house with a bottle of vodka in his jeans pocket, heading for the train station. Regina seemed to leave a hole in his ears and heart like a mad meteorite.
He had no intention of picking up, but the sound bore pretentious bits in the passengers' ears like a precocious Christmas song.
He dropped the bottle on the floor several times, staggering to pick it up. Luckily, it didn't break, but it caught the attention of a few punters.
Ruby was one of them.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
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