PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
She stomped her feet on the mat dislodging most of the compacted snow. Boots pulled off, she hung her wet coat on the hook and made for the kitchen.
The cold had made her nose stream. She grabbed a piece of paper towel, flicked the switch on the kettle and slumped into the tattered armchair by the window.
There was still no news.
Each night she went to bed despairing.
Each morning she woke with renewed hope.
Would it always be this way?
Would knowing be better or worse?
He had only been two years old when he went missing.
Word Count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.