Here we are again, time for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word photo prompt hosted by the creative talents of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Take a look over and read the 100 or so other addicted participants each week.
Photo : Copyright Erin Leary
She sat and reached for a stone on the path, picking it up with a handful of dirt. It was still damp from the early morning dew and yet another sign that summer was nearly over. There’d be no more bike rides or pony trails, daisy chains or apple hunts. No more nights when she could sleep outside. No more nights when she wasn’t home and he couldn’t come into her room smelling of cheap beer and cigarettes and all that nastiness and sweat.
She closed her eyes a little tighter, pulled her knees a little closer and tried to dream the rain away.