Photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers: Less than 100 Words.
Photo Credit: Shaktiki Sharma
The bus shelter lights rammed hammers and daggers into his eyes and throbbing temples.
His guitar, once golden, pulled him down like lead to the grey plastic bench.
“No more, no more!” His throbbing head commanded.
“No more swilling, smoking and post-gig potions.”
“Never, ever, ever. Not if my eyes are bleeding, I am done.”
His stomach emptied into the street.
“Looks like you need medicine, man”. The kid came closer, opened his hand.
The man palmed the pill and paid with the golden guitar.
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Dear Julie,
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. I could feel his pain. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks for Hosting. This wasn’t much but I wanted to get started!
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Welcome but beware flash fiction is addictive. The prompts come out on Wednesday and some writers (cough) try to race to get their story posted on Wednesday morning but there’s no real pressure to do so.
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Welcome to this wonderful group, Julie!
The things one will trade for drugs… sad but well done!
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I love the image you conjure with the gold guitar pulling him down like lead to plastic, like reverse alchemy. Such a fall from grace. Well done.
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