This post is written for Emilia’s Picture It and Write Challenge. 
He could here the sirens. The police sirens. The police that were after him. The neighbor had called the police after hearing the gunfire. She was dead. He had made sure of that.
The night hides the crime
Passion gone bad rules again
Darkness my old friend
Written for Friday Fictioneers. My story starts after the photo. For other stories click on the blue frog at the end of this post. Enjoy!
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Georgia Koch
Her folks were against their marriage from the beginning. It will never work out they said! Never in a million years.
Opposites attract she replied. Love will conquer all and all those arguments. He, for his part, felt the same. A life together with unlimited freedom and possibilities.
The kids made it difficult. Staying at home was not what she had envisioned. The dreams of trips to Paris and Rome were but vague memories.
When he did leave they offered her advice.
That ship has sailed she replied.
hurt feelings surround
love never gives up her dead
survival the game
Written for Haibun Thinking. For some other stories click on the blue frog at the bottom of this post.
© Arthur Browne
His father died in 2006. He wasn’t yet forty when he took his life.
He went home for his memorial service. The once small town had grown quite large in his absence. Shops filled what before were decaying buildings. The tourist trade had accounted for this turn around he thought. Most of the roads were paved now, including the old rutted main street that he remembered. Strangers were everywhere but no old friends were to be found.
There was a fine restaurant where the butcher was previously located. Yet the town still seemed almost the same to him. The family old church still stood at the end of the alley. More tourist now than congregation.
His mother and his eldest sister had died at the age of fifty-five. He knows he is living on borrowed time. Perhaps he has the way to end things on his terms. He continues on.
twilight looms again
another gloomy day gone
the night is his friend
Vermont Red Barn — Photo Credit — Danny James
That summer we spent between homes. Pulling up roots after fifteen years was quite an ordeal.
The old home sold in the first week. The new home being built would not be ready for three months. The solution that worked for us was to rent a condo for those three months. In Vermont! A long way from our new home being built in Florida. Both looking forward to what retirement will bring.
Short summer blooms here
Rushing forward way to fast
Our winter starts now
In response to Haibun Thinking.
LITERATURE QUOTE:
Today you are you!
That is truer than true!
There is no one alive who is you-er than you!
~ Dr Seuss
As Jim dragged himself from his meeting his sponsor joined him in a walk to his car.
“It’s Ok Jim. A lot of us have experienced what you just went through.”
“But I was doing so well. Last week I picked up my blue chip and now I have to start over again”
“Look at it this way. After a year did you like the you in the mirror.
“Yes”
“Do you like the you today?”
“I feel terrible. I feel like I let you, my sponsor, down along with the entire fellowship”
“It didn’t take long after you relapsed to revert to the old terrible you, did it?
“No I thought I could have just one but that led to three and eventually back to my old drunken ways”
“Well tonight you picked up another white chip. It means you want the new you and not that terrible person you were before. I think you will make it this time.”
in times of trouble
seek progress not perfection
one day at a time
The Friday Fictioneers Challenge can be found here (FF).
As a young boy I liked to help my grandfather bale the straw, load it on his tractor and then drive that old tractor to the outskirts of town and sell to the local crop dealer. He taught me to drive that old Ford tractor before I could drive a car. Some days we had to wait in line before we could unload our tractor. While he waited in line I went inside to spend some time with the other boys my age. I was having a ball.
But one day, while waiting, he accidentally left me there by myself.
Word count = 100
This post is in response to ermilia.
by Jonathan Taylor Sweet
Tell me again about the past
The one where everything was green or blue
Why now just us
In this winter cave
I only see the future and in this dream there is but one of us
