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| PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter |
I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob, summoning up courage. Ten years of neglect have left our holiday
home dilapidated and disused.
I am back for the first time since you left.
The day when I built you a garden bed, with an herbaceous
border, purple delphiniums, white perennial phloxes and the lemon yellow
Anthemis. You stood there with the
sunshine reflecting off your locks and the fragrance of the Jasmine in the
room.
This was our paradise, how was I to know that you wanted
out?
I see the Passionflower bloom outside. I knew I had fed it
well.
Here we go, another week of the Friday Fictioneer prompt is here. I foresee a few bodies scattered around this time, but all done with the help of some wonderful writing and all in good taste ;-)
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Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100.
Here we go, another week of the Friday Fictioneer prompt is here. I foresee a few bodies scattered around this time, but all done with the help of some wonderful writing and all in good taste ;-)
Poignant. I'm assuming (perhaps wrongly) that the feed for the passionflower wasn't human blood since we're told they left
ReplyDeleteThanks for your comments Neil. I've left it a bit open ended, it is indeed the end of a relationship but who knows what might have happened.
DeleteWho knew indeed?
ReplyDeleteOnly the writer but he ain't tellin...
DeleteSad but beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteThank you I am glad you liked it.
DeleteDear Subroto,
ReplyDeletePicturesque and poignant. Nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle I am glad you liked it.
DeleteQuite sad, one partner so happy, not realising that the other wanted to leave.
ReplyDeleteSome relationships are like that. Thanks for reading and commenting Alistair.
DeleteNice double edged take. Perfect for a flash.
ReplyDeleteWorks both ways. Thanks for your comments YS.
DeleteThere's an elegant touch of a deeper sadness or--maybe--evil here.
ReplyDeleteI leave that to the reader's imagination. Thank you for reading and commenting Linda.
DeleteThere is something called a flower language... I think you pictured it well.
ReplyDeleteI am a budding writer after all. Thanks for your comments Björn.
Deletei have a feeling a crime of passion was committed in this story. well done.
ReplyDeleteIt may have been indeed. Thanks for your comments Plaridel.
DeleteI agree with Plaridel. I think she fertilised the passion flower. She may have left, but that can be interpreted how you wish!
ReplyDeleteYou may be right there Clare. Thank you for reading and commenting.
DeleteWonderful story .
ReplyDeleteMoon
https://aslifehappens60.wordpress.com
Thanks Moon, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteHow sad. After all he'd done she walked away. Great description and writing, Subroto. ---- Suzanne
ReplyDeleteThank you Suzanne.
Delete