 |
| Clare in the mist, courtesy of http://1stwrites.blogspot.com |
‘Today, I will watch for him. Today,’ Clare thought, staring out across the bay.
The
mist roiled about her, soaking her to the skin. Clare shivered and
then her skin relaxed in the warmth that followed. Listening for a
sound, she found herself in a cocoon of mist and silence.
How
many days had Jackson been gone? ‘Today is three-hundred eighty-four’,
she rolled the number around in her head. Flash images of his back as
he slung his rucksack over his shoulder, growing smaller in the
distance as he rowed his curragh away from her—that’s all she could see
now. His face was a blur, lost in a mist itself.
Still no sound, Clare strained to hear, to see just a hint that Jackson was coming back to her. That he would stay this time.
Then a sound, ker-plunk, broke the stillness of the air and the glassiness of the water.
Click on the link. This is from a photo prompt, way back in 2011 or 2015? I was looking for something else, and found this instead. Great photo prompt. Stirring the pot of old stories, I enjoyed scooping it up.
