Wednesday, March 16, 2011
3WW Fiction in 58 (Breeze, Mellow, Tickle): Blue Kite
He grabbed the kite, blue as a widowed newlywed. The mellow night spilled onto him as he exited, engulfing him in its wetness. Once upon the sand he raced to and fro, beads of sweat tickling his brow. The kite trailed him like a stubborn dog, diving into sandy clumps. Like his wife the breeze had abandoned him.
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8 comments:
Sheilagh Lee: said so few words but what a story. Bravo
compact story, well written.
Quite the story there. Very well written.
What a sad story. It seems so very poignant.
Did she leave him because he was playing around (with a kite)? This is really quite humorous with all the implications!
Great (ah-hem) word play..Jae
A kite makes an unlikely mistress, so there is more to this than meets the eye. Amusing little story.
Well expressed.
The Poetry Bin
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