Long time blogger Al Forbes hosts Sunday Photo Fiction.
Each week a new photo donated by one of the participants in the challenge is used as a prompt for a story of 200 words. This week’s image is one of his and inspired me to join the happy fray of contributors.
Desperate, she had gone to his old headquarters and pulled out all the stops. She begged, pleaded, and lauded her husband’s successes, his experience. She numbered the benefits of re-hiring him, appealed to a decade of friendship, cajoled, and prodded.
They needed a fresh start.
The CEO had a slot to fill where no one wanted to go.
Providential, he thought, and drafted the contract waiting for signatures.
The family was going back to Vietnam.
She believed her humiliation was saving the children, herself… and even him, the collapsed bastard in the back seat, a dishrag mumbling a broken record of ‘I can’t leave’, in weeping fits.
‘I love her! Don’t you understand?’ he screamed again.
She said nothing for over 700 km, full of fury, shame, and misery.
She had already spoken all she could say.
She drove through the unforgiving night, treacherous roads, sporadic downpours, and brutal gales to arrive by morning.
He would sign the damn contract.
She parked in the No Parking zone. Sullen skies watched him step in dog shit.
Smiling, she broke her silence:
‘It brings good luck’ she said with a shrug.
He stared at her with clenched teeth and walked the stench into his war zone.