Deepest apologies for missing the boat the last two weeks, fellow Fictioneers. It’s good to be sailing away again, to explore what stories lie just over the horizon. As always, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting, and thanks to you for stopping by. More 100-word drabbles behind the frog. Hop on!
Longing – 101 words
I dreamt I was falling from a height.
‘Tis a rude awakening to find oneself surrounded by strangers. What revelry far below? Will the magistrates quiet this crowd?
My shoulder aches. I’ve slept funny, or have I grown so stiff with age?
My balance is off. Good mercies! I wonder can they peek up my tunic?
I seem to have become quite useless; the only question I might accurately answer is: Which way did they go? And what good be knowing if one cannot follow?
To see the sea, and not to sail, alas. I might as well be in Pisa.