THE BURGER VAN - a story in a hundred words

THE BURGER VAN

Music was so unlikely in that dingy street that the night ladies paused in their negotiations to gather round the hatch.

Dale served everyone burgers and coffee, each burger-wrap and coffee-cup printed with a girl’s face.

“My daughter,” he explained.

They curled their lips. “What did you do to hurt her?”

He looked beyond them at the towers of wealth. “I turned my back when she needed me most. If you meet her, ask her to come home.”

He drove away, and the wind blew discarded cups into a corner where a ragged bundle huddled unseen.

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I can't get excited about cities - nasty noisy rushing places that hurt my soul - so this week's flash fiction was bound to be down-beat. Thanks to https://rochellewisoff.com/ for posting the picture prompt taken by another Wisoff - read Rochelle's blog for the full story, and follow the link from there to read others.

I have been busy working on the latest draft of Wolf Pack, the next book in my series. If you haven't read Book One yet, the link to A Volcanic Race is at the top of this page.

BURGERS & BUTTERFLIES - a 100 word story

Another 100 word story written in a rush between packing boxes. We are relocating to England from Tenerife next month and sorting out what to keep after fifteen years in one place is not easy!
This week's photo prompt comes, as always, from Rochelle
https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/
Follow the Blue Frog trail from her blog to read how other writers interpreted it.

My version is more fact than fiction this week, but it's what came first to mind!

BURGERS & BUTTERFLIES

We would eat our burgers battling along Brighton seafront against a howling gale, salt spray crusting on our faces. Over an espresso coffee later I would lick my spectacles clean – I can still recall the taste, but it was the only way to avoid smears.

‘Men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses’ was so ingrained into my consciousness that his insistent wooing was a shock.

“Only virgins wear white,” my mother decreed, so I wasn’t even a beautiful bride.

But six months later my daughter was born, and the woman I was always meant to be emerged from her chrysalis to spread her butterfly wings.