I remember her clearly, the oversized suitcase, the faded rose on her jacket.

Later, at the diner, I asked a local about her.

For at least 30 years she had gone down to the bus station daily and waited for her lover to come take her away.

Funny thing was that the dark-haired stranger had jilted her long before, back in the 1950s.  She had waited patiently for him until she was 41 and began the crazy ritual.

I saw her the next day, the spring beauty just beneath the snowy old surface.

I wonder if she is still waiting?

***

Some of you (if you are old enough) may recognize this as coming from the song Delta Dawn (or try this if you like Tanya better than Helen), only I set it 30 years later, say 2003, when poor Dawn is in her 70s, not her 40s (the song says 41).

***

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Dale Rogerson. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

It was not a job I was looking forward to!

Aunt Margret was always more than a bit eccentric, and she had that side to her which, well, let’s just say that more than one family member said they were happy she never had any children.

Her storage unit, which was my responsibility, was not pleasant.

Damn, I’d have to call the county about disposing of hazardous waste. And what was up, did she rob a pharmacy?

So there’s her dog Baxter!

What did that say on the mail package, something about remains?

We always wondered where Uncle Harry went…

***

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Ted Strutz. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

They are coming!

Shhhh.  Close your eyes.

I can’t sleep with them out there!

This bit of woods is special, a fairy forest.

Their guns are real, not fantasy!

Shhh.  They are fairies of light, of good.  The magic is powerful, but you need to believe.

Believe?  Now?

They have a trail in the trees, one our enemy can’t see, because they are rough and can’t believe. You need to believe.

I hear them!

Close your eyes and see.  We can catch the rail, escape.

But…

Shhh. Close your eyes.  Do you see?

Yes…

“Stop, or we’ll shoot!”

Let’s go.

***

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Alicia Jamtaas. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

**

Remember – You do have to believe, keep that hope alive, even if you’ve reached the end of the track….