This story was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s challenge. See Link:
You may also wish to read my previous 3-way challenge story because this one follows it:
She was deeply scarred and yet her body was truly beautiful.
Her skin was adorned with the most opulent tattoo of blossom flowers, to represent her youth and beauty.
Her skin was perfect, unblemished; not a mole, freckle or mark disfigured that exquisite body.
All her scars were internal, personal. They were around her heart.
One day she hoped to meet a man who loved her and didn’t hurt her.
One day she hoped to find someone who didn’t just see her beauty as a way to make money.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 24/September/2018
FOWC with Fandango — Personal
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
The little boy wandered into the bar gazing wondrously up at the display of umbrellas.
He was enraptured by them, living in a land with barely any rain.
He always thought of umbrellas as the quintessential appendage of an English Gentleman. His grandfather often spoke of English Gentlemen and their good manners and He’d always wanted to become one.
“How much for one of your umbrellas?” he asked the barman.
“They’re not for sale, they’re just decoration” replied the barman.
His grandfather came over laughing, “You don’t need an umbrella to have good manners, just say please and thank you.”
And I couldn’t help sharing this little song that my Grandfather sang to me.
21 September 2018
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Joanna thought it hilarious that her grandfather kept such an enormous clock in his living room.
He’d never arrived on time for anything in his life.
He was late for her school play and late to pick her up from school.
Grandma said he was even late for their wedding.
She asked him, “Grandpa, why do you have such a large clock?”
He replied, “It’s to remind me that even though we put time on a pedestal and it looms large in our lives, we have to remember not to focus too much on it that we forget to live.”
14 September 2018
She gazed longingly out of the window at the rising full moon. It never ceased to captivate her.
It meant so much.
It was by the full moon that she first met her husband and he captured her heart.
Of course, he had his faults, he could pontificate for hours about the rights and wrong in society. On balance though, his passion outweighed his pomposity and she loved him for it.
Now he was off fighting for his cause and he would be looking up at the same full moon.
Quietly, she said a prayer for his safe return.
PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner
7 September 2018
FOWC with Fandango — Balance
They’d spent a fortune on building the house. They’d built on a new wing, added balconies and white columns. Inside it was even more opulent with marble halls and a sweeping staircase with a gilded wrought iron bannister.
She’d purchased an antique mirror, the owner had told her it was magic, she paid through the nose for it, but didn’t believe it for a minute.
She stood outside her new mansion, paid for by the man she’d never loved, and looked into the mirror. It reflected the only true home she’d ever had. The plain shack she’d grown up in.
PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers grandson of Dawn M. Miller
31 August 2018