An interesting photo here. Much to ponder. Plenty to take in. A beautiful morning. Now, to write about it in this week’s edition of Sunday Photo Fiction.
I stopped at the edge of town. The road veered eastward, giving me no other choice. I set my bag down and turned to look one last time at the village that raised me.
But my time had come. I was ready to become a man. Venture into life. Explore the unknown. Find out what was around that eastward bend.
No one was pushing me out of town. My folks weren’t telling me I had to move out. There was no rush for me to leave. Yet I had to.
I’d vowed not to return until the time was right. I needed to move on. Make some money. Make Mom proud. Show Dad I could do what I set my mind to. Take my lumps and get back again.
I stretched my arms wide. Twisted at the waist. Drew in the deepest of breaths to smell the fresh, spring morn.
I picked up my bag, turned around and walked home.
Tomorrow. That would be best.