And once again it’s time for Friday Fictioneers – hundred word snippets of fiction, all based one way or another on Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s photo of the week. I’m not sure just what this story of mine is. Is it romance? Is it horror? You tell me. And write your own story about Rochelle’s chosen picture; then share it with the rest of us.
She was so beautiful.
I don’t know why I say “was”. Centuries wouldn’t change her.
When we met, she was wearing a vast skirt that swayed delightfully as she walked, balanced by a tight bodice and a huge bonnet that almost hid her face – the sort of thing my sisters said was the latest fashion. We promenaded and talked for hours.
At last I drew her close. With my free hand, I untied her bonnet. “Don’t, my heart,” she said. “You’ll regret it.”
I tilted her chin up. Her tears ran down the snaky hair coiling against her cheeks.
I could be free again, she said. If I forgot her.
But I’ll never forget you, my lovely Medusa.