Every Friday authors from around the world gather around the virtual fireside of fellow WordPress blogger Rochelle Wisoff to share flash fiction stories of 100 words, all inspired by a common photograph, and exchange constructive criticism. Readers’ comments are also welcome.
“Dried up. Globial warming. ”
She didn’t correct him.
“Like your love.”
One from the army of nettles mustered on the aqueduct stepped up and stung her.
“My love never dried up.”
“You wouldn’t marry me afore I went off.”
“Didn’t want a fatherless mouth.”
“When I came back you’d married! A blind bloke with his legs blown off. He didn’t last a year. What good were he to you?”
“You never wrote.”
“It were the war.”
They kept vigil for two minutes.
She threw her bouquet. It plunged through the nettles, slapped water.
(c) Ann Isik 2013
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