The Last Ferry Home

Wednesday again and another fix of Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and hop on board.
ceay r

Photo Copyright : C. E. Ayr

The late night shuttle was almost at the jetty. Jack stood, his back against the rail, watching. He’d seen her every night for the last 3 weeks.

A child, chasing a ball, brushed past her leg and she looked down and smiled. But he saw a sadness burn through her smile. She couldn’t hide it. He could make a story of her smile.

He wanted her to become a story, a story just for him.

Tonight he was going to speak.

She looked up and caught his eye. He stilled.

Sinking back into the crowd, he watched her leave.

Maybe tomorrow.

14 thoughts on “The Last Ferry Home

  1. I can’t help but see an alternate perspective on this story where this guy is actually a stalker, especially with the line, “He wanted her to become a story, a story just for him.”

    I think this may have been influenced by the fact I misread at first and thought he was thinking about the child.

  2. I was reading about myself…just a few short years ago, and perhaps some backsliding happening even these days. I would imagine that everyone has entered that phase somewhere in their life…if not, they are fortunate. Great story.

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