Footprints in the Sand


Once more we gather, we growing band of Fervent Friday Fictioneers, drawn together by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each Wednesday she posts a photo prompt to tempt us, this week the photo is courtesy of Janet Green. Join us as we try to write a very short story – 100 words, or a poem – same rules apply.

An eternity I was lost at sea in search of your love
Never finding shore nor
seeing one on the horizon
Lost in the vast emptiness that was
everywhere
Your ocean of love eventually giving me life
Binding us
together as husband and wife

(extract from “Sea of Love” – by Bill Turner)

 

wasp-nest

Genre: Romantic fiction

Word Count: 100

Footprints in the Sand

Wandering by the shore, her slender feet leave footprints in the damp, pale sand. The returning tide bubbles into rockpools and swirls over pebbles, she wonders how long it will be until all signs of her are washed away.

Her green dress billows softly on the breeze; a thin strap falls onto a freckled arm, resting there unnoticed as she stares out at the ocean. Reluctantly, she turns back to their rented holiday villa. Has the grey cloud of suspicion and resentment followed them to this tranquil little paradise? Seeing the expression on his face, she rather thinks it has.

(This is an extract from a short story I wrote about marriage; how it  can go wrong, what it takes to get it back on track)

 

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)