Riverwalk ~ #fridayfictioneers ~ 1/17/2014

Friday Fictioneers is here. The opportunity and challenge presented by our esteemed host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields to be as innovative and creative with the photo prompt provided. Of course with the added challenge of staying within the 100 word maximum limit set.

As she writes:

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)- Wait what? I might. I’m a stickler.

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

copyright-erin-leary

Copyright – Erin Leary

 

Riverwalk

When I left home gravel flung pitting the window panes. The creek bed lay barren. I never looked back, eyes firmly fixed on him.

Over the years stubbornness well-set, concrete sneakers to my heart. I moved further and further away. In kind he left.

Afraid to proceed I stand full circle at her gate; the fertile road ahead. In a rush the skinned knees, walks and talks, secrets shared –our first kiss on the rope swing, our midnight skinnies. Swiping away my tears I head towards the house. Now all that’s left is to bury Mum and ask for forgiveness.

 

Word Count: 100

 ********************************

P.S. Please make sure to read the others.

Advertisements

9 thoughts on “Riverwalk ~ #fridayfictioneers ~ 1/17/2014

  1. Dear Dana,

    I also have a friend who’s constantly urging me to write humor. On rare occasions, when the muse is in the mood, I do. However, the dark side, tends to draw and speak to me. As my cousin, Kent, and I are fond of saying, “I don’t write ‘Village of the Happy People.’

    Your story is touching.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  2. I’m taking my sweet time getting around to reading this week (in the midst of writing a longish short story) but HERE I AM! There’s a bit of confusion to me as to who the HIM is in the story. At first I thought the father, but then there were talks of first kisses and skinnies, and, well, I’m not THAT close with MY dad, so….
    I think the biggest part of this story is what you DIDN’T write, which is so often the case with these little stories — the successful ones, that is — and I count this one among them. The stories that speak of a bigger world and yet feel complete as they are — not all secrets need to be revealed, the mystique of their existence is enough to intrigue the reader.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s