Opening my charcoal eyes, I look at the familiar scene.
Nothing new this time then.
With night drawing in, the house emanates its cosy interior. Warm yellow light peeks out from pulled curtains, and swirls of steam pump from a boiler pipe.
It’s pot luck where you’re going to pop up, and very rare to be greeted by anything other than this. I have seen every kind of home, many times over. We all have.
Once – just once – I awoke on a cliff top. Oh how my eyes soared. A snow[wo]man’s dream.
Perhaps you might remember that, next time you come to build one.
Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson
I wrote this as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The idea is to write a short story (just 100 words) based on the photo prompt provided.
To join in the fun visit HERE.
Thanks for reading x