His eyes lit up. ‘Check out that river! Reminds me of where Dad used to take me when I was little. Such good memories…’
He turned to her. ‘What was your childhood like?’
They’d known each other just over twenty-four hours. Should she describe how she’d sit in her room on a chair with her eyes tightly closed and hands over ears praying for her parents to stop fighting, or the cold nights curled in the backseat with her mum and sisters while on the run?
‘It was pretty good,’ she said. ‘But tell me more about those river holidays.’
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.
With each step closer to the river she peeled a layer of clothing from her body and dropped it to the ground. Her hunched shoulders relaxed; the tightness around her mouth released.
There was not another soul to be seen. Her naked legs stepped into the water. She scraped her fingers lightly across the surface and the gentle current wrapped around her middle.
She took in the deepest of breaths then let her body sink, leaving just her head above water.
It was so peaceful she could hear the swarm of flies already beginning to gather around his dead body.
Friday Fictioneers is a challenge set by Rochelle Fields where writers around the world create 100 word stories inspired by the one image. For more information see: