Time again for Friday Fictioneers, a 100 words of fiction for the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and join the parade.
Photo Copyright : J Hardy Carroll
We cannot remember their voices or see their faces clearly. But the memories never really faded. We didn’t let them, we took them with us, carried them with us from place to place.
Though eventually even those began to wane. The sheen of the when and where, it dimmed to a weakened hue, leaving only the bitter aftertaste of loss. Even in our dreams.
So in the here and now, those long remembered memories, like faded sepia photographs, are put into a box in the corner of an attic. A box no one will open.
All our brightest hours.