
They frolicked together, most days, together down the highway of life off to their respective places of employ. Laughing, crying, sharing their lives as only the best of friends can do in the short time they spent together each day.
Until one day, the saucy wench’s escort did not show!
The knight did not call or message, not a peep from a page – nada, nothing, zip!

She was so distraught she messaged and called (she never calls, she must be worried!) and called and messaged! Nothing! She was certain the situation must be dire.
She even called the castle and he was not there! Surely, he must have gotten message to the castle but not to the wench? She could not understand. With heart on her sleeve, she reached out again.
Was he at the apothecary? Was he jailed? Was he in a drunken stupor from to much mead? Did his horse die or is his carriage broken?
All morning and into the afternoon, she rang her hands in turmoil, until she got a message.
A few words he sent.
Just got up, over slept.
That is it? Words, no voice?
A wasted day and not a word from his lips but a message sent through the air.
On the morrow, another message.
On my way.
Really, is that all she warrants? The wench does not get to hear a voice but only to look upon a message?
She had planned ahead and hired a driver.
The day before her employer had to fetch her mid morning and luckily, her nurse maid was able to get the children from her cottage.
She was not going to go thought that again. Afraid that not only had she ask too much of her knight but could not risk another day of lost wages. And, why only messages? Does this not deserve a conversation?
They have not spoken since that fateful day.
It is not anger that weights upon the wench but sadness that their friendship seems inconsequential and common courtesy became a chore.
The Prompt:
1.) Share a disagreement you’re having with someone and let your readers be the judge!