Flash Friday Fiction

I am posting this from just outside of London this week; last week was from Ottawa. I am looking forward to being at home again and staying there for a while, which may have influenced this week’s theme.

Cobblestones

Worn with age, edges softened, grime filling the gaps – the cobblestones are testimony to the passage of time.

The street bustles in daylight; the night is quiet – only the occasional rat scurries. Darkness conceals, providing needed shelter.

In the shadows, I sit. Lost to the world, I claim this corner as my own. I yearn for the light, for a home, for connection. Old as the stones, old as the bones.

Worn with age, I sit. Hunger urges me on. Time to hunt again.

(C) Erin Leary

To see other Friday Fictioneers, please visit here.

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