AnElephantCant be mistaken for an encyclopaedia
There are some things that not even he knows
But this time he’s not wrong
In the words of Bob’s song
You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows
This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Follow this link to see some great stories by some great writers.
But please read AnElephant’s short piece first.
He does not want to think he writes it ‘in vane’.
Just another small station in another small town.
They are so young, so in love, about to be married.
They have kissed goodbye.
He is on the train with his comrades, off to fight the war that will end all wars.
He will be home for Christmas, everyone assures her.
Because she is the station master’s daughter, she goes to the room with the longest view down the track.
She is in the attic, just below the weather vane.
She stands ready at the window, little white handkerchief in hand..
She waves eagerly, excitedly.
But as he leans out to wave back, the sun emerges, blinding her momentarily.
The train disappears round the curve.
She never sees him again.