I love this picture from Dale Rogerson. I feel like there are so many stories originating from it that just need to be written so this might not be my only one. Thanks so much, Dale, for the inspiration. And thank you, as always to Rochelle for giving us this wonderful flash fiction outlet that is Friday Fictioneers.
The skeletal tree limbs seize life like characters from the Wizard of Oz. I am momentarily transfixed despite my toes freezing in the silly canvas sneakers I donned.
I wait in shadows, shivering arms folded.
Then I hear the crunch of approaching footsteps in the snow, dance forward, my smile breaking my frozen lips. It’s not Antoine.
“Get your butt home, girl. Forget all that nonsense about Broadway. Who do you think you are? Barbra Streisand?”
Father’s angry eyes melt the snow around us.
After tears, I fall asleep, hearing: somewhere a place for us in my dreams.