If I could, I would turn our love on its head: the disappointment, work-a-day and humdrum would be over and done with first.
At the river the tide would go out, and the stinking mud would make plain its dirty treasure; it would rain, you would catch a chill and I would be unsympathetic,
Before we fell in love.
I would try, and fail, to mend that hole in the roof and you would refuse to hold the ladder, because you had better things to do,
Before we fell in love
Before we fall in love.
Does this count as a poem? If so, it might be my first ever.
For those who don’t know how Friday Fictioneers works, this picture (this time supplied by B.W. Beacham) is our inspiration for our weekly online writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each story is only about 100 words long, so why not read a few others: click here to read some more or to join in.
And please comment below with any suggestions on mine, or just to show you’ve visited.