Photograph copyright Erin Leary
Another week, another Friday Fictioneers submission. After last week’s yarn about talking molluscs, I’ve gone maudlin for this one. I couldn’t get it below 130 words, but I think they’re all necessary this time. More examples hereYou always used to like it here, didn’t you, love? By the river in the morning. Something about the silences, I suppose. It’s cold, mind, but that only makes it more beautiful, with the mist floating above the water. I used to say it looked like a ghost, but you’d tell me not to be daft. From time to time, I still see that spark in you.
We used to go walking here when the kids were grown up. You’re smiling. I thought you would. The doctor said it was pointless, that by bringing you here, I’d only risk you catching a chill. What does he know, eh? This was our special place, wasn’t it? I knew you’d remember.
You do, don’t you, darling? You must remember this. Love? Love?