My writing group, ROW80, posted a challenge a while ago to do a 100 word story. These are fun to write, as little fragments of description or dialogue. Maybe something you'd open a novel with, or slip in between two chapters, or just leave as is.
The challenge -
This time, I’d like to draw your attention to the lovely photo that Elizabeth Mitchell posted to her blog for the First Friday Photo bloghop I’d mentioned last week here: Lapidary Prose and write a drabble (a little 100 word story) with the picture and the cycle of endings and beginnings as integral parts of the piece.
The photo seemed very peaceful to me, a nice place to rest.
I shivered as an early morning breeze blew past me, caressing my neck like spirit fingers.
We'd first met on this shore decades ago, both teenagers. I was an inexperienced camper, she an already seasoned guide from the nearby Reserve. Friends first, the next summer lovers, the next one room-mates at university. Then parents, and then world travelers, following my busy career to exotic lands. Never finding the time, it seemed, to return back here, to her people.
I lifted the small carved box, tipped it, and let the wind carry her ashes away.
Finally she was home.