A little bit of flash - 17 Nouns
This story had to be woven around 17 nouns, taken from the 17 entries to a previous comp. The nouns are in bold...
Because of the invitation, I faced an agony of indecision. Did I dare bridge the yawning gap between us?
I only saw him yesterday.
Before the temperature had risen too high, I’d gone to the beach. I’d danced along the shingle, laughing like a child, revelling in my aloneness.
But someone had laughed with me; a man, standing on the balcony of the old colonial mansion which overlooked the river. “What’s your name?” he’d called.
Should I have answered? I wasn’t supposed to, but there was something about his smile…so I did.
Today, while I feed endless lengths of material towards the darting needle of the sewing machine, all my thoughts are of him. Of his pale skin and hair, and of the eyes which I am certain will be as blue as the sky above my head. Such a contrast to my own dark colouring.
He is a free spirit…I am tied.
“Get stitchin’!”
Marla punctuates her order with a slap, so I stitch carefully around the cuff, hiding my terror of her. My pitiful salary is hers to command…the sun seems to shine less brightly as I remember that.
So now, I am back at the river house. I am no fool; this is no courtship. I am merely an amusement, a fact confirmed when a glass is raised in a mocking toast at my approach.
Strangely, my thoughts turn to Marla. I can earn more in one night here than in a month with her.
When the man smiles, his teeth shine in the candlelight.
Picture credit: Delia Tournay Godfrey
Don't forget, blog reader, that you have a chance to 'Challenge Me'; give me 3 unrelated items which, if chosen by my family, will be woven into a unique piece of flash and posted on the 31st. Leave them here if you fancy having a go...
Because of the invitation, I faced an agony of indecision. Did I dare bridge the yawning gap between us?
I only saw him yesterday.
Before the temperature had risen too high, I’d gone to the beach. I’d danced along the shingle, laughing like a child, revelling in my aloneness.
But someone had laughed with me; a man, standing on the balcony of the old colonial mansion which overlooked the river. “What’s your name?” he’d called.
Should I have answered? I wasn’t supposed to, but there was something about his smile…so I did.
Today, while I feed endless lengths of material towards the darting needle of the sewing machine, all my thoughts are of him. Of his pale skin and hair, and of the eyes which I am certain will be as blue as the sky above my head. Such a contrast to my own dark colouring.
He is a free spirit…I am tied.
“Get stitchin’!”
Marla punctuates her order with a slap, so I stitch carefully around the cuff, hiding my terror of her. My pitiful salary is hers to command…the sun seems to shine less brightly as I remember that.
So now, I am back at the river house. I am no fool; this is no courtship. I am merely an amusement, a fact confirmed when a glass is raised in a mocking toast at my approach.
Strangely, my thoughts turn to Marla. I can earn more in one night here than in a month with her.
When the man smiles, his teeth shine in the candlelight.
Picture credit: Delia Tournay Godfrey
Don't forget, blog reader, that you have a chance to 'Challenge Me'; give me 3 unrelated items which, if chosen by my family, will be woven into a unique piece of flash and posted on the 31st. Leave them here if you fancy having a go...