Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
This week’s great photo takes me back to when I was just a wee laddie, early mornings on a bike in freezing weather (was it really always winter?), doing my paper round.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
She smiles when she sees him come into the garden, carefully closing the gate behind him.
To her southern English eyes he is almost the caricature of a Frenchman.
He sports a beret and a droopy moustache, and has a string of onions around his neck.
He speaks English with a heavy Breton accent, but the ancient eyes are kindly.
The road is narrow, he indicates the toys on the lawn, we must take care of the children.
She buys his onions, of course, more than she needs, and gives him a cool drink.
She is still smiling as she waves him goodbye on his ramshackle old bike with its packed trailer.
These country lanes are very narrow, she thinks later as she drives into the village, and people drive too fast.
The onions on the road catch her eye, causing her to slow sufficiently to see the wrecked bicycle and broken body in the ditch.