Her body sank to the cobbles, each bony vertebra grazing skin against whitewashed wall. In slow motion she slid sideways into the shade, eyes glassy and the taste of dirt and leather in her mouth from a million sandals that had trod the alley before her. It was empty now, everyone indoors – away from the midday sun. As sleep, or something greater overtook her, she saw her mother pouring homemade lemonade from a pitcher she had never owned.
This is a Friday Fictioneers story. A re-run (because it’s summer and we’re all busy) of an FF story I wrote in 2012. It became a (much altered) crucial scene in the novel I was writing at the time, which became Our Endless Numbered Days, and when it was finished was bought by Penguin (and others), and published in 2015. Just goes to show that these pieces of flash fiction sometimes go on to have much longer lives than we ever imagine when first writing them. Join in, or read others.
Last week I revealed the UK, US and Canadian covers for my next book, Swimming Lessons. Click here, for the big pictures.