Why am I thinking of this man? Her mind wouldn’t rest. She’d dreamt about him; he’d held her, non-threatening. It felt nice. Every now and again he’d creep into her mind. She’d taken a mouthful of bourbon and saw him kissing moisture from her lips. She imagined she might be old enough to be his grandmother but at least his mother then saw him kissing her mouth shut.
Were he and his wife divorced or just separated?
Well, at least we were free. Are free.
When he’d first seen her he walked by running his hand along the remnant of her waist…
Prompt: “At least we were free”
100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#157