This week’s Friday Fictioneer prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields ran in a myriad of directions in my mind, very indicative of my Piscean nature. In the end there could be only one. (cue music to The Highlander). With that thunderbolt, here’s this week’s photo and story. Make sure to click here and read other people’s offerings. They won’t disappoint.
Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
“Where’s Rachel?” Ichiro went about his business completely ignoring her. “I said where’s Rachel?”
She hadn’t returned a single call in weeks. And they didn’t go a day without talking. Something was wrong. Even more so was Ichiro’s uncharacteristic calm.
Slowly, calculating he fed the koi eagerly gulping at the pond’s surface. Exasperated, Sara glared; walking over to him she tried her best to be imposing. She wasn’t leaving without an answer. But he didn’t move, just starred at his fluid reflection twisting with each colorful scale.
A glint of gold caught her eye. Beneath the frenzy lay Rachel’s ring.
Word Count: 100
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