Every week, Priceless Joy over at Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers provides a photo prompt for participants to write a 100-150 word piece based on the photo. My submission for this week’s prompt comes in at 117 words.
He could envision it, burning in solitude.
His prized possession. The one object he placed above anything, the object he loved more than anything or anyone. It represented his dreams and aspirations and so much more. It was him and he was it. Losing it—especially like this…
Tracy gazed through her tears at her husband prostrate in agony on the ground.
It was not the house he cried for as she did.
It was not the five years of memories and things they had stored up in there that caused these rare tears to fall from his eyes. It was that thing. That thing he loved more than her.
It was his stupid guitar.