Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by Susan Spaulding, who has taken over this great weekly prompt from my old friend Al Forbes.
This week’s photo comes courtesy of the delightful Joy Pixley.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in the picture (below).
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
© Joy Pixley
Click here to hear the author read the tale:
The Rocks
Strictly speaking, I shouldn’t be here.
But, happily, in Medville no one speaks too strictly.
This section of the great sea wall is officially closed to the public.
I love the solitude at the western extremity, overlooking the little calanque.
Occasionally I see a pair of young lovers, sometimes a fisherman on the rocks.
I say rocks, but in fact they are huge boulders, great slabs up to 3 metres in length, roughly hewn from the nearby mountains.
They have been heaped, quite untidily, as protection for the man-made barrier that shelters the port from the prevailing south-westerly winds and tides.
I step carefully across them, looking for a better view of the isles beyond the headland.
Then I am startled, almost lose my footing.
Staring up at me is a face.
A dead person’s face.
I recognise Rick, the second husband of my ex-wife.
We were close friends once, till she came between us.
I am stunned to see him.
I thought I had hidden him better than that.