Another Friday, another Friday Fictioneers (sorry kids, but I can only submit these when the pictures tell me the story, as this week’s did.) As always, I hope you enjoy what today’s muse whispered into my ear…
The chain – well, you could hardly call it that, now could you? – Would’ve never been left draped around his neck in days of old. No, back then he was prized, needed, secured.
He remembered the lad who’d rode him, screaming together down blown-out streets to get messages to the front.
God, he loved that boy. So handsome, so gentle, so fast!
The lad had a good eye, failing him only on that day where “Jerry” had hid in the bell tower.
Lying beside his dying love, he wept while his seat slowly absorbed the blood.
A lifetime ago of course, it was now a mere cherished memory as he sat idly – unloved, unneeded, and most decidedly unchained.