Monday, 23 February 2009


The flickering globe light gurgled across the bubbles and velvet warm water. She saw it's reflection. She looked into the sink to see if she could reveal; remember him, his face kissing her neck, behind her - hugging her as she washed up their dinner dishes. No sign of him there either. The new dish towel with barely enough cutlery to dry. Valentines was only just but a week ago and now all that remains is the dried and curly rose. A bloom still ripe with scent. A memory of that evening. He didn't show up again tonight and he hasn't called. She moved the wavy length of hair away and off her blushing face. Tomorrow's lunch would be easy. Leftovers.

3 more delicious 'photofiction' by moi coming for you this week. Stay tuned. LP xo
(Also if you get a chance, this blogger would appreciate it if you would follow her.)


sealaura said...

I don't know why but the second picture really grabbed me. I liked seeing inside to the even more delicate parts of the rose.

Jan said...

lalalove the leftovers, well when they look like these anyway.