Dust and trash. I can neither live on memories nor leave my past. I hear your laughter in every book you read, I smell betrayal in the withered daffodils you left.
“I don’t love you any more”. Shards of breaking glass.
“You cannot leave me”, I caressed my heavy rolling-pin,
”You cannot leave me carrying our child”
She caressed the moonfull of her belly, smiling.
“It’s my child, not yours”
Then the flash of anger, the sound of breaking bone. Blood.
I cleaned the mess and waited for a police that never came.
I cannot leave your dust and trash.
Time for another picture and this time I saw a story with a strong flashback dialogue coming. Hope it works.
Friday Fictioneers is run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, a very skilled author. Each week we gather and write stories to the same pictures. Many of them true masterpieces.
April 27, 2016