This is week 155 of Sonya’s “Three Line Tales” writing prompt.
The phone still glowed from the call just ended. Sighing, Ange called her pilot then turned her beacon on. “Next weekend, for sure”, she promised herself.
She lay back on the grass, taking in the silence, the cold, the stars, the loneliness of the high range. The feel of the damp grass under her back and shoulders. Eyes wide open, Ange thought about everything, and nothing.
The sound of the approaching helicopter brought her back. It would be yet another office all-nighter, one more she didn’t want.
Thanks for reading,￼