Cara goes by bicycle to the village shop. The sky is polished blue.
As I lie down with Peter in the grassy hollow I imagine Cara peddling home, into the sun.
Time slows: minutes become hours
Peter turns towards me.
Hours become days
I think of Cara squinting, stopping.
Days become weeks
Peter leans forward.
Weeks become months
I picture Cara pushing the bicycle, head bowed.
Months become years
One first kiss, and a shadow falls. We shade our eyes, look up. Cara, her face dark under her hat, frowns.
This is a Friday Fictioneers story: a 100-word piece inspired by the picture (this week provided by Sandra Crook). Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click here to read other people’s stories, or here to join in.
I’d love to know what you think – constructive criticism gratefully received – leave a comment below.