Challenge accepted by guest author Sara Sartagne
Sara's challenge was to write a flash fiction story of less than 500 words, based on this picture:
The photo album
The photo album sat on a shelf, and I could
draw my finger through the dust that had settled on it. I drew it carefully
towards me, away from the old postcards, received three years ago, out of date coupons
for money off milk and baked beans, and a bit of string tied in a careful bow.
She would have used that string in the garden, I thought, and blowing gently to
remove most of the grime, I settled at the kitchen table and opened the stiff
pages.
She stared out at me, fresh-faced, her
smile as bright as sunlight, her shining eyes crinkling at the edges. She
peeked over the bouquet of freesias, Lilly of the Valley and eucalyptus and
dared the future. I could still hear her giggle as she only just kept her feet
climbing out of the car, nearly putting her stiletto heel through her veil.
I leafed through the pages, recognising
friends, relatives that had been ancient then, let alone now, on a sunny August
day that I could still recall as almost too hot for comfort. And there was I,
ten pounds lighter, skin less lined, hair a different colour, wearing a
preposterous hat (had I worn it for a dare?). I leaned close to her, laughing
at the sheer joy of the day with her. I recall we hated the vicar’s ponderous
voice and patronising sermon, a church wedding only to pacify her mother-in-law
to-be, and how the chicken had been over cooked at the wedding breakfast.
I sat back, remembering. The church bells echoed
through the chatter and the laughter, and later the overpowering,
throat-catching smell of lilies (another mother-in-law to-be demand). The endless
expanse of green lawns, sweltering in the midsummer heat and the gentle
clinking of champagne glasses as everyone relaxed at the posh hall.
She slipped your excruciating heels off
under the top table and wriggled her toes throughout the meal, discarding them
altogether when the dancing started. Even so, she was a little taller than her
husband, but stared adoringly into his eyes. The song was by Coldplay,
saccharine but absolutely right for the occasion.
Her going away outfit included trainers, to
the horror of her (now) mother-in-law, but no-one else cared or noticed, such
was the blaze of love in her face. Such happiness, it was hard to look at the
pictures too long.
I reach the last page and on it was a
headshot of her, smiling into the camera, her eyes soft with elation and hope. But
in this last photo, the tear on her cheek surprised me.
Until I realised it was mine.
Sara Sartagne
Sara Sartagne writes women’s fiction featuring
brave women, often weaving love stories through the narrative. Her English
Garden Romance series reflects her passion for gardening. The novellas
are downloadable from her website. The Duality books combine
contemporary and historical plots into award-winning standalone dual timelines.
She lives in East Yorkshire, moving from London to a HUGE garden in 2019.