|Image copyright: Melanie Greenwood|
It was a table meant for three. And this was where we always sat. Little Riya, her and me; the perfect family. We would either spend time talking to each other or simply drinking in the sights of a world that was stirring awake on a Sunday morning. That was the routine.
"Would you like to order, Sir?" The gentle voice of the waitress broke my reverie.
I looked across the table. Two empty chairs. The sound of laughter was missing. Their absence made its presence more than ever as my eyes skipped over the familiar menu, its contents now blurred.
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers- 31st October for the above photo prompt.