SUMMERHOUSE
The summerhouse was our place, where we drank wine and
made love to the sound of wavelets lapping the lake shore.
It was there where, one glorious sun-dappled afternoon,
we made our vows, and sprinkled rose petals on the water to thank the gods for
our good fortune.
But the gods of love are fickle creatures, who waft a curtain
of rosy gossamer over their victims’ eyes. Love couldn’t survive the chill wind
of reality, and now those dreams are frozen under a blanket of lies and broken
promises.
......................................................................................
The building in Dale Rogerson's photo is clearly intended for summer use - you'd get a very cold bottom on those seats, though the view would be glorious. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/ from where you can follow the frog link to read other stories prompted by the photo.
Beautiful, loving, and sad, Liz. I guess this is the meaning of "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"
ReplyDeleteAnd all she has left is memories. Thanks for commenting, Neil.
DeleteAbsolutely lovely take on this, Liz. And yes, definitely not meant for winter seating ;-)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dale. Is this close to you?
DeleteMan, I thought it might work out for them. No happy ending here. Good take Liz.
ReplyDeleteThey thought it would too. Thanks for reading, Iain.
DeleteVery deft use of the prompt photo, Liz. Wonderful metaphors and a story that too often is a reality.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jade
DeleteWhen something starts with such joy, it is a tragedy indeed when it goes wrong. Really good writing.
ReplyDeleteYou are right, Linda, a tragedy.
DeleteDear Liz,
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful and poignant piece. The use of weather is stunning.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Wow, thank you, Rochelle!
DeletePerfect take on the photo prompt, Liz.
ReplyDeleteThanks Susan x
DeleteGreat imagery! Shame it didn't work out for them, though.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteI loved your descriptive writing, especially the rose petals, and the rosy gossamer.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Penny..
DeleteI loved the poetic rhythm of your story. Sad but beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteThank you Brenda.
DeleteWonderful story, shame love didn't win in the end!
ReplyDeleteSometimes love isn't enough.
DeleteThat's so sad – and sadly realistic.
ReplyDeleteYes and yes. Thanks for commenting, Patsy.
DeleteLove the way you used the photo as seeing them a metaphor for love lost. Cleverly done
ReplyDelete