I’m running a bit late again, nothing new at the moment. Here’s this weeks contribution to the fab Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the weekly photo prompt, this week provided by Douglas M Macilroy. Get yourself over, clink on the linky and give it a go.
Sarah-Jane Moore didn’t walk, she glided. Through the double entrance doors to the makeshift stage, every eye followed her, from the curl of her long golden hair to the sculptured perfection poured into her dress.
It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Jenny’s palms started to sweat, her left eye twitched and her spandex lost control of her stomach. Every school reunion was the same.
She fingered the locket around her neck, picturing her daughter’s painting on the fridge “My mummy’s beautiful inside and out”.
Something the venomous Sarah-Jane Moore could never be. Jenny smiled and re-adjusted her spandex.
I’m still struggling for time, teaching and marking, and marking and teaching, work is taking over and my writing’s sort of left by the roadside at the minute. But I do hate to miss the fabulous Friday Fictioneers, so here’s a little quickie this morning.
I didn’t ask for diamonds or a house in the hills. I didn’t ask for anything that I thought you couldn’t give. Yet here I am again, hurt and alone, listening to the patter of the rain as it falls.
Where the raindrops and tears splatter and tumble, like speckles of loss that sparkle and gleam, till they liquefy softly in a silent farewell.
Yet if I could make a necklace of raindrops I’d never want again. I’d never need diamonds, or rubies or pearls. I never need more than the offers I’m made. But raindrops, like you, never stay where they fall.