Mother rented a cottage that summer to grieve her failed marriage. I drowned my sorrows at the beach, in comic books.
“Come on, grumpy,” Charlotte gestured, out of the blue.
My brooding heart was overpowered by her love. When summer ended we never saw each other again, but the memory of her tender flesh was engraved in all my senses.
Our lives had taken their toll, but hope emerged after reconnecting online. I waited in the gazebo, wondering what damage the years had done.
“Come on, James.”
We went joyfully into the garden maze, as if we’d been waiting all along for the other to guide us through.
This has been an installment of the Friday Fictioneers Challenge. If you would like to give the challenge a try, start at Rochelle’s Purple Blog and join the fun.
Here’s the concept: A weekly picture is posted, and the writer is challenged to produce one-hundred (more or less) words of some sort of fiction with a complete plot (beginning, middle and end).
Have fun and happy writing!