
PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart
It’s the weather. Yes. The cold. Those clouds pressing down like they’re trying to squeeze the life out, making the houses look…broken. They’ll bounce back in spring. It’ll be like it was.
Ellen peered out the window.
Everything was dingy, as if a piece of tape, loaded with dust and fingerprints had been stretched across the view.
How long had it been? Ten years? Fifteen? More?
Fingers shaking, she unclasped her purse and stared down at a framed photo: A smiling man with warm gray eyes and white hair.
“Oh God,” she breathed. “Let it just be the weather.”
As always, many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers! Stop over and read a wonderful array of 100-word-fiction pieces based on this photo prompt!
Grief is a worthy opponent. Very nicely done.
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Thank you, Violet. Time gets by so quickly, and grief and regret are hard to bear.
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some say you can’t go home again. more often than not, you can’t. nothing will ever be the same anymore.
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Plaridel, hat’s so true. It never is.
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Great ending
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Thanks, Neil.
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This was so good! I enjoyed it.
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I hope the trepidation is unfounded.
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She wears her ambivalence like a just-donned pair of rose-colored glasses. May it end better than her fears are whispering.
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You can really feel her welling emotions in this one. Beautifully written
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Her loneliness is palpable.
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Dear Angela,
Heartfelt piece. Hope things turn for her. Nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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