Image by Georgia Koch at http://www.bastetandsekhmet.wordpress.com
One thousand, three hundred and twenty-four days have passed since Maggie last went out in the boat.
Every day she comes down and sits silently in the grounded boat, now mossy and falling apart. Sometimes she cries.
One thousand, three hundred and twenty-four days ago her husband died. Oh, how they’d laughed and spent many a wonderful afternoon floating around in that little wooden boat.
Maggie watches Jim and Florence nearby, pushing their boat into the water. They’re arguing about where the ropes should go. Jim raises his voice, Florence rolls her eyes. They don’t realise how lucky they are.
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Friday Fictioneers is a challenge set by Rochelle each week where writers from around the world post 100 word stories based on a common photo prompt. For more information, and to read other stories, visit Rochelle’s page here.
Jessie Ansons 
Love this story Jess — it fits the photo perfectly. Welcome back to writing FF.
Dear Jessie,
Welcome back, stranger. 😉
Your story is a good reminder to all of us. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Nice to see you back Jessie. Good story, and it touched the spot for me. We’ve seen many a keen boater beacheded because their partner has moved on, one way or another. You reflected that melancholy beautifully.
Lovely story. Real sense of loss and sadness at being left alone in the world.
What a wonderful story… I do love how real it is… maybe we should remember that glasses are often more than half full.
Very touching story.
A sweet story.
A great reminder to count our blessings and make the most of now.
Touching and sad. A good reminder that we should remember that we live in the now and appreciate what we have.