PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Belinda glared at Jerry. Her face was seriously flushed from the sun. Sweat dripped off her nose and chin.
“Next time, would you PLEASE cough up the extra couple of dollars for the shady side?”
PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox
Zing and Zang perched on the fire escape, watching and listening to the people far below.
“We haven’t been to China yet,” observed Zing. “People here seem very concerned about China. Zang, you have deeply studied Zerkon. Has our own planet ever been at war with our own people?”
“No, Zing. Nor with any other planets, as far as I know. War is costly and counter-productive.”
“Then what is the point?” queried Zing.
“Power. Fear. Money.”
“Seems to me they have more to fear from each other than they do from us “aliens!”
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Grace’s gaze took in the bench, the fence, the bridge, the water. The only thing she really saw, though, was the bench. Their own special “love seat.”
Jude had sprayed it quickly one day, laying claim to this particular bench. Today, she didn’t sit down. It was too wet from the rain.
“Ours forever,” Jude had said. He held her close. “I’ll always love you.”
Two weeks later, he died in that horrific accident. She didn’t. She wished she had.
Her body healed, but not her heart. Never her heart.