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.

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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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