A picture at 100WCGU, that’s hard to resist, here is my contribution, very short poetic prose. There are words here for someone to borrow.
She walked across the frosty lawn
and there she saw his key again,
recalled his words of icy rage
she stammered that it was mislaid
He’d left her never to return,
neglect, he never could accept.
She thought about the day they fought
and how he slipped there on the lawn.
He must have dropped it in the grass
and blaming her was his excuse.
She smiled and threw the key away
and laughing knowing she was free.
The wisdom of this tale, in short:
A keychain will relations save.
February 25, 2013