Time again for the highly compulsive Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word photo prompt from the ever creative Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Have a look at the other 100 or so addicted creations offered up each week.
Some memories linger; leaving a taste, a scent or a trace of something more. Others fade into the ether, tiny particles of nothing that float in the air. It was easy to forget the nights they ate tapas or the charm of the old quarter. The feel of warm sand that glistened under-foot or the balmy scented moonlight that promised so much more. It was harder to forget the tears and recriminations, the gunshot that pierced his chest, the sirens, the headlines and the jury of twelve. If only he’d seen the sign hanging across her cold blackened heart – No Trespassing.