Flash Fiction – Perfect

antiques-along-the-mohawk

Photo courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It’s been a busy week but I’ve taken a sneaky ten minutes out from copy-editing to join in with this week’s challenge. If you’re interested about the life and writing habits of authors check out my new blog series ‘A day in the life of…’ which kicked off yesterday with best-selling thriller writer Robert Bryndza.

 

It was supposed to be perfect.

Our cottage snug and cosy. Days lazing in front of the river, water gushing, birds singing. Nights in front of the open fire, toasting marshmallows over the crackling flames.

But the water stank and rats scratched outside our bedroom window.

He was supposed to be perfect.

To love, honour and protect.

She was supposed to be perfect.

My loving and loyal sister.

But I knew.

The day was perfect.

A picnic for three on the river. Shame the boat capsized. Shame they couldn’t swim. They had more in common than they thought.

Now it’s just me.

Perfect.

 

 

Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Pop over to host Rochelle’s blog and read the other entries here.

 

 

 

 

 

79 thoughts on “Flash Fiction – Perfect

  1. What is it with that river and murder I wonder? Great story, I love the progression, and the detail from cozy to bleak and cruel.

  2. This was great. The contrast between the ‘ideal’ and the ‘actual’ was really strong.I enjoyed the attack on the senses too: I tasted the marshmallows, smelled the stink of the water and heard the rats scratching outside the window!

  3. Somehow, I think she’s not too sad about being alone. 🙂 Nice one, Louise. Nothing is quite ever perfect either when you expect it to be. It made me think of all the beautiful photos you see on the Internet and then you go and it’s like, ho hum.

Thanks so much for reading!