It happened so fast, it might not have happened. The door wasn’t open, and then it was – the knob stuck in the drywall. But the gun, it raised so slowly, so deliberately, so pointed directly at my head. And then. Oh my Julie-Anna. She moved so fast. She was on her feet next to me, and then she was over him – the slightest smoke spiraling from the gun.
We buried him there, just beyond her property, on the river island. We sold everything to tear down her cabin and build our home. When she died, Julie-Anna willed the land to me.
What story comes to mind when you see that picture? Join in! Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog link-up based on a photo prompt. The Challenge – write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle, and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.) The Key – make every word count.
*Featured and Post Image Copyright – Erin Leary
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