A few weeks ago, this creative writing list that I joined gave an exercise to write a short story in 55 words. At the time I didn't have time to write, which is bad, because you must always have time to write. Or pretend to write. Anyway, last night I decided to give it a shot. Of course it was something close to my heart:
Chino’s face stared back at her from the worn picture—boyish grin that made her melt, hazel eyes that pierced her soul. She missed him so.
She smiled, planting a kiss on the picture-Chino’s lips. This would have to do for the meantime.
She dropped it into the tin, which was alight with crackling flames.
Last Song Syndrome : Cool Change - Little River Band