William spent his days with his face glued to a microscope, sifting through London clay, counting and recording the fossils of floraminifera – micro-organisms which had once drifted in the tropical seas that had covered England. Their honeycomb swirls floated behind his closed eyes as he fell asleep in his single bed, in his flat shared with strangers.

William dreamed of a different life; one where the last thing he saw at night was his wife, and the only things he counted and recorded were his children.

***

I wrote a different story about William, counting floraminifer, but it was too cryptic even for me, so I scrapped it and started again. This one is a well short of 100 words, but I’m not sure there’s anything I want to add. William is someone I once knew, who was a very sad man. I hope he’s happier now. It turns out that the picture prompt is a wasps nest, but it reminded me of the micro fossils, floraminifera, like this one:

This piece of writing is part of the Friday Fictioneers writing group. Each week writers from around the world attempt to write 100 words (or so) starting with a picture, this week from Janet Webb.

I’d love to receive comments and constructive criticism. Click here to read other people’s stories inspired by this picture or to join in, with the group hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields.