Into The Blue


I have been unable to post anything as my account was suspended by WordPress. I don’t know why this was and they haven’t told me why they did it. There was just a message saying my account was suspended when I tried to log on. I sent an email complaining and have not had a reply, but magically the account seems to be working now. Thank you WordPress!

So, with haste in case they change their minds and banish me again, here is the story you should have seen last week.

Copyright BS

Copyright B.W. Beacham

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Into The Blue

“It’s deep blue, just like your eyes”, I say,

He continues to read the paper barrier between us.

“My outfit looks good, what will you wear?”

There is no answer.

He turns a page.

Seemingly all communication has ceased,

His silence is slowly suffocating me.

I walk onto the terrace.

I forgave his betrayal,

I should have let him go

Not clung to him in desperation,

Fearful of a life without him.

I watch the flotsam in the bay, subject to demands of an indifferent tide,

Like me.

I dress for the party and leave,

Travelling hopefully, towards new horizons.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thanks as always to Rochelle and to B.W. Beacham for the photo last week.

I have not been able to comment on any stories, I promise to make amends this week – WP permitting of course!

 

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A Fresh Start


Friday 1st March, St David’s Day and time for more Friday Fictioneers. Thanks for the photo prompt this week go to Beth Carter, and thanks for continuing to inspire the Friday Fictioneers go to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

The Fresh Start

Photo - Beth Carter

Photo – Beth Carter

He looked out at the yard.

Not much stuff left now. Some cookery books, the unused  ‘zigzag action’ sewing machine, a red boudoir chair, some photo albums, a few shoes. All her castoffs.

He saw the red-haired woman again. She had walked passed a couple of times. Now she crossed the street and stood looking at the car. He had hated women, one woman, for too long.

He came outside, she smiled.

“Seems I’ve moved to an interesting neighbourhood, is the car in the sale too?”

He grinned, it wasn’t a sale, just a clear out.

He got the keys.

See other stories here

(Late entry this week. I tried to post last night, but for some reason I couldn’t load the photo and there’s never an intergeek around when you need one! So this is my Saturday Submission)

Light blue touchpaper…


Happy New Year!  Friday Fictioneers are back, you can read other stories here

fireworks-lora-mitchell2

photo courtesy of Lora Mitchell

Twenty five cards are lined up on the mantelpiece. My daughter is smiling as she pours drinks for everyone, pleased so many have thought of her today.

The party moves outside where boyfriend Dan is busy lining up rockets, fixing Catherine wheels to posts, balancing Roman candles along the flat bit of the fence. He is grinning. He organised this dual ‘event’.

I stand watching the bonfire being lit, the rockets launched into the night sky, Dan’s big red face. He should take care.

I hadn’t known you could buy ‘Divorce’ cards and on reflection, I preferred Guy.

(100 words)