I remember, in daylight pretending, be straight and dependent.
Breadwinner and accountant, but as soon as the gaslights were lit, I was drawn to speakeasies where bourbon and flappers gave me a warmth you never gave me.
I remember the ice on the windows in the bedsit we shared and the scorn I received when coming home late.
I remember when Ada was born, the week we could share before she was claimed by the cold.
I remember your tears, and your anger but your smile I always forgot until you left me alone.
My darling I’m burning without you
The picture with the cars made me think of prohibition and had to write a story from the perspective of someone lost at that time. My story is of course not coming from Glasgow, but I hope that is OK.
At Friday Fictioneers Rochelle prompts us each week to write a story to the same picture. I have had a bit of problem writing to this weekly challenge lately. Working from home means working harder, and there are lots of things to do, and it will go on for quite some time. If you want to read more stories just click on the gangster Kermit below.
September 2, 2020