Walking I fell but then I rose because I had to, there was no other way. I couldn’t manage to sit and lay in the dust and dirt.
Life is sometimes a hard game to play.
When life becomes difficult, it becomes difficult to swallow my own breath. The fresh air then chokes me. I try to gulp it in inches. It escapes me. It plays hide and seek with me.
I try to breathe, because I have to breathe. Because that’s life and it goes on till it has to.
For daily prompt: Swallow
This is a story for Friday Fictioneers, which is hosted by Rochelle. Every week you are challenged to write a 100 word story based on a photo.
Thanks to Björn Rudberg for this week’s photo and also to Rochelle for hosting the challenge.
Thanks to all the readers for their time, too.
PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg
STOP! They stopped at the sign. They were surprised that they had come so far.
Silence, peace and just the two — it could be their favourite spot. However, between them ran some space and the gentle breeze touched them. Silence presided, until she said, “… that’s it… then.”
“Huh…I guess so,” he said.
The birds were flying, what seemed like to their nests. From the sky, a cooler sun was descending into the valley somewhere.
They hugged but in the absence of any warmth.
She drove past him and the signpost — STOP!
At home, her family would be waiting for her.
