Posts Tagged ‘passion’

When the last deer disappears into the morning mist,
When the last elk vanishes from the hills,
When the last buffalo falls on the plains,
I will hunt mice for I am a hunter and I must have my freedom.
~Chief Joseph, Nez Perce

photo(253)

 

 

The Friday Fictioneers is a group of writers who weekly chose 100 of their best words to tell stories
based on a photo prompt.  The coordinator of our cadre is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Thousands of people compete weekly, maybe even pay bribes,

to supply the picture prompt. This week’s photographer is Sarah Ann Hall.

Anyone is free to either read and write or just read. If interested, go to Rochelle’s site:  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ and join in the fun.  If you just want to read (“likes” and comments are always appreciated by all authors), go to the end of the page and click on the little blue critter to access the rest of the stories.  

Warning:  stories will continue to be posted for some days, so check back often.
And now, without further ado, here’s the photo and my story for this week.

aqueduct-copyright--sarah-ann-hall

aqueduct-copyright-sarah-ann-hall

Quite an interrupt-us

Shade dapples us
as we lie in summer flowers.

I offer you prosciutto-wrapped melon,
place it gently in your receptive mouth,
lick the juice drops from your chin.

“The Romans were here,”
you elucidate.
My hand traces patterns across your body.

“They built this aqueduct.”
“An aqua duck?” I josh,
kissing your nearby ear.

The heat increases
as the afternoon lengthens.
I roll over, leaning into you.

You laugh as I tickle your nose
with a stem of grass and slowly
lower my face towards yours.

You sneeze.

A startled moment of frozen time…

then we collapse in helpless laughter.