
Photo prompt © J Hardy Carroll
They were going to have to move.
Her health. His job.
They were going to miss so many things.
The beach. Their yard. The hours spent outdoors.
He laid in bed at night, awake. Her breath gentle at his side.
She would not complain. Even if she could still speak, he knew she wouldn’t put that burden on him. It broke his heart.
He put the shards into action. Poured his mind into design.
He’d build a bubble. An Eden in the forbidding landlocked wintry ground. A lush oasis where they could both breathe in the memories of better times.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers










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