This story was inspired by this photograph and the challenge by Calmkate of Aroused, see link here:
It was also inspired by the following word prompts:
What He Accomplished.
With a photograph in one hand, a letter discarded on the floor by her feet, a memory to be cherished in her mind and her heart completely broken, she slumped in her chair and cried.
The photograph was of the bridge that they had first met in those heady days before the war.
The war that had now taken everything away from her. Almost everything. As she thought of the war, it filled her with a surge of enmity towards this thing called war, far greater than for those poor fools that had tried to invade, impelled by their own leadership and whipped up into a semi-religious fervour.
She’d only skimmed the words of the letter but already they were emblazoned on her mind, never to be forgotten.
I regret to inform you of the death in action of your husband, Captain Mark Thompson. He died ensuring the enemy failed to capture our major seaport and as such, I hope that it gives you some comfort to consider how much he managed to accomplish and that he died a heroes’ death.
Sir Reginald Compden
Deputy Minister of War.”
The words ‘how much he managed to accomplish’ were particularly bitter.
She glanced out of the window to see a small boy running along the lawn playing with a wooden hoop.
He had his father’s sandy hair and blue eyes.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 11/January/2019