Elsie sits in her window and counts the walkers: the old man with the exuberant puppy, the couple – each with a baby strapped to their backs, the lone hiker with his map in a plastic sleeve. She counts them up the cliff, and she counts them back down.
Only once has someone gone up and not returned. She’d watched and waited until it grew dark, and considered phoning the police. Eventually, she went up by herself, but the bench at the top was empty. Then, with a shaking torch she scoured the undercliff.
They buried him the following week.
This 100 word (or so) flash fiction is a Friday Fictioneers story (an online group of writers, who write stories each week posted and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields). Click here to join in, or here to read other stories. The picture this week is provided by Sandra Crook.
There are currently two give-aways running for my novel, Our Endless Numbered Days, but I’m afraid they are both only for UK readers. One is for 10 copies of the UK paperback proof on Goodreads, and the other for one copy of the UK hardback edition and is hosted by a UK blogger.