Friday Fictioneers–your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story of 100 words using the photo as your inspiration.
Why did she have to pick that corner to dance? Jonathan shook his head. Might as well ask the sun not to shine here. They’d repainted the fire-hydrant. Bright, vibrant red. It probably didn’t remind anyone else of blood.
She was just running across the street to Bidwell Exchange. The scream of brakes on ice, the horrible crunch. He was too far away, trying to persuade their lab puppy not to mark that hydrant as his own.
Jonathan looked back over at the twirling girl, spinning so fast she seemed to stand still. He smiled. Lauren would have liked that.