Welcome back to my corner of the Friday Fictioneers’ kitchen. Every week a new picture, and new story, 100 words or so. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting. This week is short and sweet, coming in at a scant 84 words. The rest of the Fictioneers are cooking up their own tales; click on the blue frog to read more. I appreciate your time, comments, and criticism. If you really like what you read, please share with a friend.
Arden’s Ashes – 84 words
The mist you see is only fog, not spirit.
The fountain full of autumn rain, not tears.
The years have flown.
This is where you loved me best;
This is where I’ll take my rest
Beneath a coverlet of leaves and stone.
Your Grandma was a kitchen maid at Arden
The mansion lies in ruins on the hill
Its walls burned down.
When cinders tumbled to the floor
She had not latched the oven door
That night my home was lost but love was found.