“If this be heartache, let it be mine to endure,” she voiced as she solemnly stared at the raging storm that seemed to mirror her feelings well. The sky was as dim as northern seas, dramatically staged with lightning that made the clouds flicker. Rain hammered the earth and outside was already sea of puddles. The wind was still in full fury.
She’s uncertain of a thousand things. Does he love her truly? Will her heart be spared from distress? Friends have warned her before. But she melted into a languid pleasure of gentle sea breeze and curling waves. On that fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time, they were infinite— or she so thought. And just as the calm sky before the first drop of rain concludes, she looked up, then knew why typhoons were named after people.
Katrina, Joaquin, Ivan, Wilma, Ingrid, Dianne, Lenny, Jose, and the list could go on for names that have left people devastated, ruined, and overthrown. As for her, Alex must be the worst of all.
Be it a storm or a person.
Word Count: 180
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!
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