All over the world, (yes that’s right) writers are busy staring at the photo prompt and putting fingers to keys to say just what they see. Thanks to Sandra Crook for the photo this week and to Rochelle for leading us along the Friday Fictioneers trail.
Word Count: 100
An Enchanted Place
Fairies danced here once. My sister, cousin and I watched them at twilight as they danced about in the clover, their flimsy wings translucent and dotted with pale colours. No adult believed our stories, laughter and a pat on the head was their usual response.
Life moved on as life does, we three lived ours in different countries, until death robbed us of our cousin. Returning to this place where we played and laughed together, I feel the loss of the child I knew and the weight of the adult I’ve become.
I won’t come back.
The diggers arrive tomorrow.
Note: Our enchanted place is no more, except in my memory. Fifty houses now stand in the field I was remembering, where we ‘saw’ the fairies long ago.
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