He loved their car. It was painted all over now, memories of their travels scrawled across the doors, the roof and even along the inside of the wheels. He was a painter and the plain white car that she had brought into the marriage made him wince. With every place they visited, he added a new fresh picture to the car.
He looked at the car, memories flooding back of all those journeys. A tear rolled down his eye, as he looked down at the handwritten note in his hand.
I’m sorry. Our relationship would never work. Please keep the car – it’s the least I can do and I know how much you love it.
FFfAW, Week of 05-10-2016
Photo prompt provided by S. Writings