Stormy Waters

Another re-visit this week, this time from Jan 15. Friday Fictioneers is a 100 words of fiction based on a weekly changing photo prompt. Just dabble your feet in the water and jump right in.

Photo Copyright : Georgia Koch

I watch as the skies turn darker, as the mist sweeps in from the shore.  I feel the chill seep into my centre and the tightness take hold of my soul. I know that the tide is turning, that the storm is upsetting the calm, but I can’t stay away from the danger and I can’t accept the alarm.

I drown in a sea of dejection, swallowed up by a swale of regret. Adrift in a small wooden tender, only steered by the oars of lament.

I know there’s no land on the horizon, we are just ships that passed in the night.

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You Can’t

Beautiful Imperfection

Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction (or there abouts) based as close as you like to the photo prompt provided. Imagination is a funny old thing, strange where each new picture takes you, follow the link and join in the exploration.

Photo Copyright : Janet Webb

She was hot, nauseous and dead on her feet, her legs almost too weak to stand. She felt sea sick. Like a small skiff cutting through the swell, each new wave hit, pulled her under, filled her lungs till she couldn’t breathe.  She was drowning on dry land.

She’d waited her whole life for that perfect family. Watched her friends have their first, their second and still she waited.

And now she was almost there, doctors had said he wouldn’t be perfect.

She stroked her stomach and felt a smile warm her through. Looking down, odd shaped pebbles and rocks glistened under foot, beautiful imperfection.

Will You

The Choice

Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. This week’s photo is another re-visit, the original prompt was from 2014. Still struggling with time, life and all that jazz I’m re-using my original story with just a sprinkle of editorial changes.

Photo Copyright : Adam Ickes

To cross the bridge or not, was the choice really hers? Fading light was closing in and a cool chill settled deep in her bones. She saw shadows hovering above, heard voices whispering in the stillness. A faint brush of lips touched her forehead, another brushed her cheek. Each kiss stealing a moment from a lifetime of memories; each one taking away a smile or a look, a joy or a heartache.

Then heads bowed low in reverence, she took her last breath.

Dancing barefoot across the old wooden bridge, she smiled. The choice was hers and she’d chosen now.

Do You Remember?

Written for Haibun Monday – A Little Romance. Don’t we all have those moments we lock away for a rainy day?

There was no design, or plan. No thought of what might happen. It was just a touch, just an accidental touch.  I reached for a glass, he reached for his, skin touched skin and just then, just for a moment, I knew it wasn’t over.

I can’t remember where we were or even who we were with. I can’t remember the song that was playing or what was in my glass. But I remember the touch.

Too afraid to let go, yet too afraid of what it meant. We didn’t move our hands.

That night we left together.

Over twenty years later I can still feel that touch. I don’t know where you are, or what you’re doing now. But I like to think you feel it too.

 

A moment to feel,

A lifetime to remember,

Some hurts never mend.