© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“Pizza, anyone?”

Again, every Sunday Max would said that. I hated him for that. I hated pizza. Like forever. I hated pizza like you loath cockroaches. Max knew for sure that I hated pizza, that was why he did it. He made fun of me. There was no other person but us in our little house. With a little chuckle, he asked the laptop, walls, anything. I hated pizza, but I loved him.

“Pizza, anyone?”

“You know my answer,” I reluctantly said without a single glance.

Silence floated, I closed my book. I looked around. There was no Max. There was no pizza. Max had gone forever. It had been seven weeks since I mourned deeply over him in a very grey day.

There was no Max.

There was no pizza.

“Maaaax!” I screamed, with eyes full of tears.

Written for Mondays Finish the Story

Sorry for my poor english 😐


Author: wingedwind

Aku adalah aku yang sebagian aku tahu dan sebagian aku tak tahu.

12 thoughts on “Pizza”

  1. Such a sad story! There is a lesson here and that is to live each day to the fullest, and to truly appreciate all those in our lives who we love and hold dear! Thank you for participating in the MFtS challenge, and I hope you come back next week! Be well…. ^..^

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