The Whole of the Moon

Chapter 3 – Time is on my Side

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terraced-street

“You could have called him to fetch you.”
He turned the ignition, The Stones blared from the radio.
“He’s probably in bed.” She left the excuse in the air, he didn’t question why that would be a problem.
“You don’t mind do you? It’s on your way.”
“I’m happy doing anything for you,” he smiled.
“Don’t…” She turned her face to the window as though suddenly finding the terraced housing infinitely interesting.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. He pulled up short of her house.
“Why did you come?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “I shouldn’t have.”

Chapter 2 – When the Night has Come

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shaktiki3

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Alison fled into the evening. Her tears splintering the glare of the neon signs, she lifted her arm to a taxi she hadn’t the money for.
It sprayed the shimmering lights of a puddle at her as it passed. She watched the shattered reflections reform.
The bus-stop timetable affirmed her last chance home had departed.
“My husband is enough,” she told herself.
Through the window, John was at the jukebox buying more shared memories.
As she approached him, Ben E King pleaded, “Darling, Stand by Me.”
“You came back,” John said plainly.
“Could you…?” she faltered, “…I can’t get home.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Chapter 1 – Que Sera, Sera

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diner-roger-bultot

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

John tapped a record into the jukebox and sat down.
“Recognise it?”
Alison smiled, “We shared our first milkshake to this.”
Her hand idled across the table to touch his. As though suddenly discovering its wandering, she jerked it back.
“Are we going…?”
“We have a choice?”
“But my husband…?”
“If he’s enough…”
“My vows…”
“…promises, morals, all pillars of society’s grand architecture.”
A tear hit Alison’s cheek.
“But love is savage; it roils like a tornado scorning man-made structures, flattening everything,” he said.
“With victims crushed beneath the debris…I must go.”
As she hurried away he called, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.