(Wikimedia Commons)
Remembering Sunday
by Donna L Martin
Just when Joe prayed it wouldn't come again, there is was. Another Sunday to get through. His friends thought he was crazy to come here but they couldn't understand the pain. Couldn't understand the emptiness every time he touched the cold sheets where she used to sleep. He kept returning to the place they spent their Sundays so he could be close to her. If he closed his eyes he could imagine her beside him, curling their toes in the warm sand as they raced to the tree at the other end of the beach.
Today all he could see was one set of tracks in the sand. For some reason she wouldn't come to him when he closed his eyes. Maybe he WAS crazy like everyone said. Squinting against the morning sun, Joe stared at the tree for a long moment. It couldn't be. Maybe his eyes were tricking him. They told him she was dead. Boating accident they had said. But there she stood by their tree. Just like that last Sunday he remembered.
Heart thudding, Joe raced toward the tree and her...
***Okay, it's your turn! What happens next? Is Joe crazy? Did his friends lie to him? Was his love still alive? Put your creative cap on and add a sentence or add a paragraph. Continue my story or start one of your own. Join the fun and see where this picture prompt takes us!***
He locked his eyes on her, afraid she'd vanish if he dared to look away. The sun beat down on his skin. He had to reach her! He pushed on, his spirits soaring with hope. Could it be she'd come back to him?
ReplyDeleteHe ran hard. What was happening? He grew no closer to where she stood. The sand they'd so often walked together became his enemy, dragging him down with each step.
He slowed, his heart pounding and his shirt drenched with sweat. "I...I can't reach you." He panted the words, but a sudden wind snatched them away. Was this some sort of a cruel joke?
And then...
Hi Cheryl! Hey, I really like this addition! I'm wondering if there will be anyone brave enough to add another line or two to the story...;~)
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
Thank you, Donna! This is so much fun. I'm trying to nudge others to join in. :-)
ReplyDeleteHi Cheryl! I think flash fiction might be an acquired taste. I'm a visual writer and enjoy doing this type of thing but not everyone knows how to do this type of writing. I love the idea of people joining in, but I'm just as happy with the people who might simply comment...as well as the readers who simply visit for a quick read...;~)
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
I'm not really sure what qualifies as Flash Fiction so I hope I did it right. LOL. It was fun to jump in and give it a try. You've set up a great story. I'd love to see where it could go.
ReplyDeleteYou did great! I've joined groups doing flash fiction for 100 words or less and then again much longer flash fiction. My original idea behind my Flash Fiction Friday was to encourage readers and writers alike to join in the fun by adding to the original story but flash fiction isn't for everyone. I'm glad you are enjoying it and thanks for sharing it with others...
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
Thanks, Donna! It was fun to take part. :-)
DeleteAnd then as if through a deep tunnel, a knocking sound in the distance became louder and louder, a voice calling out his name. He suddenly sat bolt upright, the cold sheets now damp from his sweet.
ReplyDelete"Joe, Joe, are you up?" came a familiar voice.
:)
Whew! I was afraid poor Joe would be left stranded with no way out. Thank you, Diane! :-)
Deleteoops! that was surpose to read sweat not sweet. *rolls eyes*
ReplyDeleteHi Diane! I sure have missed you, Lady! I'm glad poor Joel was only suffering from a nightmare...;~)
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
Ack! I've had enough of romance... - just not my taste. Heh Heh ;)
ReplyDeleteHi Erik! I'm relieved to know that for now at least, this isn't your cup of tea...~)
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
Yes, the voice was familiar. He yanked the sheets away from his body which landed violently on her side of the bed. He raced from the bedroom on the balls of his feet. His heels were very tender. For an instant, he struggled to reason why; then shook his head. The soreness was irrelevant. "Yes, I"m awake!" he screamed, desperate to hear her voice again.
ReplyDelete"Joe?"
"I'm here dearest. I'm awake!" He tore through the house room by lonely room. His steps echoed through the hall dimly light by sunlight. His heart knocked loud and violently against his chest as if needing to encourage his will. The rhythmic thuds reminded him of the police officers' fists pounding the news of the tragedy against the door. He knew before the officers uttered a single word. Yet, now, he heard her__calling him.
This is great, Pamela! :-)
DeleteThanks Cheryl! I'm glad you reminded me by sharing the post. I hope I didn't derail it. I love the idea of is it, or is it not a dream. Is he going mad? FUN! Way to go, Donna.
DeleteHi Pam! Good job...I know it's challenging sometimes to pick up where someone else left off and make the story still flow but everyone so far has done a great job. I really had no idea where this story would go when I started it, but now there are so many possibilities that I wonder what will happen next? ;~)
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!