The Last House
Written By Shan Jeniah Burton Copyright 2012
We lay tangled together on an airbed covered in beach towels, in the exact middle of the white-sand floor. Our hands dance over familiar but endlessly intriguing terrain, hungry for exploration, as the warm noon breezes waft through the window openings, carrying the scent of the ocean filtered through the pomegranate and olive trees, and the scents of dinner being cooked away down in the village.
The birds are quiet except for slight rustlings and chatterings that echo our love murmurings.
We eat pomegranate and crusty bread, sopping and licking the juice from lips and hands and letting the moment drift into gentle lovemaking. We never look away from each other, even as the waves crash over and through us, catalclysmic, shattering us, remaking us….
We are one as we’ve never been, and our damp, warm bodies move as though making the loveliest music…
We’re still whispering to each other as the sun sets, painting the sky and the sea with the colors of our love, achingly lovely, sending beams across our skins.
We fall asleep together when the first stars come into view, our breath flowing to a single rhythm.
When I awaken, it is dark, and he has died, surrounded by peace and beauty and my love, just as we intended.
Original Friday Flash Fiction post from LS Engler.
- My Very First Fash Fiction Challenge (shanjeniah.wordpress.com)
- Flash Friday Fictioneers: The Vigil (thewriternubbin.wordpress.com)
- Flash Fiction Friday #8 (kendeldavi.wordpress.com)
- Pomegranate Body Scrubs (fabsugar.com)
- Keep It Short (chalkthesun.wordpress.com)
- Photo Prompt for 100-word Flash FridayFictioneers: Moving On (thewriternubbin.wordpress.com)