The waves lap at the pristine shore of an island thousands of miles from any mainland. My guitar washed up last week, and despite the hammering the salt waves and blazing sun gave it, a little tuning has it sounding lovely. But then, after you’ve been alone for a month, any other voice but your own is bound to sound good.
He held the photo in his hand, struggling to reconcile the difference. She looked so happy and full of anticipation. The young woman had her whole life before her. Suddenly, his life leached of all meaning.
Determined to do something, anything—even though he couldn’t put this right—he knelt by her side and rested bared fingertips on her forehead. She didn’t complain.
The visions hit. Her life snapshotted before his eyes.
THE RULES Write a story, poem or another type of prose of 100 words or less and post it on your blog (or in my case on my Facebook page since I no longer have an active blog). Leave the link to this post on Don’s blog comments.
“I know bro, it’s really fucked up my life. I’ll never get Julie back now,” Jason had shared the news that his one-night stand reported pregnant.
“How do you know, really? “ Kent asked.
“It’s the drinking. I can’t remember shit when I’m drinking. My job is on the line too. Julie kept telling me to quit. I’m not ready for a kid. I just want Julie back. I’d do anything to get her back.”
“Jason, then you already know the answer. Quit! You have to quit.”