Photo prompt ©C. E. Ayr
Every day I catch the train, only just make it sometimes. I find a seat by the window, somehow I always seem to get one, just my luck.
The singing starts when that scrappy red bridge comes into sight. I sometimes glance to see if anyone else notices. My eyes are drawn to that concrete support. It’s like a mermaid coming out of the tarmac and hardcore sea singing me back there to a place where trolls shouldn’t lurk but do. It smells of grease, dust and concealment. Holding the bridge up, holding secrets down, holding me as a prisoner.
by Swarms Me ©2017
This is my first go at Friday Fictioneers and I really enjoyed it. What a challenge, what a buzz. How scary too!
Click the link to take a look at Rochelle Weisoff-Fields site. https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/