Must I anchor myself to this pier and tie myself down to the dead-weight that is the shore? he asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t really understand what you mean”, replied Sunaina, her lower lip quivering, tears clinging to her eyelids.
Never were one for metaphor, were you , eh, pretty face, he replied, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from his drug-fevered visage.
Fury superseded self-pity and Sunaina thrust her arms against his chest with all her might, flipping his frail frame into the murky water.
She watched his form flail in the water futilely, the oars widening the distance between them resolutely.
Word count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt
For Five Sentence Fiction’s Prompt: Abandon