What a week it has been, losing two wonderful, talented men to cancer, both only 69 years old. So young. May Alan Rickman and David Bowie rest in peace. My thoughts and prayer are with their families.
Yet somehow, even in the wake of these sad events, as always, the world keeps turning and time keeps passing, though for some, I’m sure it feels as though it is standing still. Still, it’s time again for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by our lovely Rochelle. This week’s lonely looking photo is provided by Amy Reese. Enjoy.
What No One Could See
Violet was convinced she was the only one who could see them.
Whenever she walked past the overgrown, dark steps, no one but her seemed to spare a glance at them.
“What’s down there, do you reckon?” she had asked Bella and Em as they walked past them for the hundredth time.
“Down where?” the girls chorused. Violet frowned.
“Those old stairs.”
Both girls looked alarmed. “There aren’t any stairs, Vi.”
So Violet stopped asking.
One day, she decided to look for herself.
When the missing reports for Violet circulated in the following weeks, not one person checked the stairs.