PHOTO PROMPT – © Emmy L Gant
The sun beat back the night but not the chill. The rows of trees and terraced houses blurred in shades of grey and mauve. Too early for breakfast lights.
I brushed the irregular stone wall of the bridge, felt the prickly shards of frost snap under my hand.
I heard her first, her heels clacking on the cobbles seemed to scream, “She’s getting away!”
Then I saw her, coat flapping through the mist, leaning to one side, both hands heaving her heavy case.
I ran to her. When her husband woke the lights in their house, we’d be well gone.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.