Thank you to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers.
The Continuity of Life
When I was a child, those narrow planks of wood, steps to the summer cabin, signified the ending of the day. Each evening I begged for more time. The irony doesn’t escape me now.
I have walked around the lake, watched ducks and ducklings, the continuity of life, snakes curving along the surface, concentric arcs eddying outward. The day smelled of Spring, the dampness somehow tinged with sunshine.
Already you have lit a lamp, a golden illumination, beckoning, a guide to weary travelers. I straighten the kerchief on my naked head. Not ready for nighttime’s descent, my pace slows.
This is also for the story a day challenge in which today’s challenge was to write a story of 100 words.