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 Al. perhaps predictably, challenges us with an intriguing photo with a seasonal flavour.
Even this old cynic is moved to follow the theme.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and to see what others have written.
Click here to hear me read this 90-second story:
It is Christmas morning.
I have just spent an hour strolling on the beaches, standing at the end of the rocky jetties, breathing the essence of the Mediterranean.
Now I am sitting outside the little café in the square, enjoying the air.
The weather is mild, even for this corner of paradise.
I am wearing a jacket, unfastened, and a scarf, hanging loose.
I breakfast on orange juice and croissants.
I am at peace with the world, and with my soul.
Life’s problems seem minor, unimportant.
I have an ongoing concern with my hand, which makes many simple tasks difficult.
And which makes writing a physical hardship.
There are loved ones back in Scotland, and elsewhere, who I miss, not only today, but every day.
Regardless, I am happy with my situation.
I watch the sun emerge from behind the light cloud cover.
It illuminates la gare, Medville’s long-closed railway station, my favourite building in the small town.
I come to a decision, and smile.
I think the time has come to give myself an overdue treat.
It is far too long since I killed someone.