It’s a contest!
SSFFS shared the above photo with the guidelines found HERE for their Flash Fiction Friday Contest.
As their guests kicked shoes to the side of the dance floor and flirted with the band to hear their song requests, Ellenora and Braden tiptoed down the boardwalk to the beach. Hand in hand, they splashed through the surf, admiring everything –tiny seashells, wave caps, seagulls calling in the wind, and all of the family that had managed the trip to their dreamy, destination wedding.
When they got to the sleek, yellow, Mustang convertible that Ellenora’s uncle had rented for them, Braden stopped and kissed Ellenora on the forehead. She closed her eyes and felt the weight of her love for him, the way she felt completely wrapped in his presence and protection. She tried not to cry.
Braden opened the trunk and pulled out his bag. He changed into jeans and a button-down shirt, and pulled on his boots.
Ellenora stuffed herself, all of the billowing edges of the giant, white dress, into the driver’s seat of the car. Braden slammed the passenger door and they sped off down the highway. She shifted into high gear and reached for his hand. Braden squeezed it hard and grinned.
When they got to the airport, they hugged out a long goodbye. Ellenora walked back around to the driver’s side of the mustang when a scrawny and irritable security guard told them to move the car.
Braden disappeared through the sliding glass doors and Ellenora headed back out for the road. She thought about everyone dancing in the sand to the south, and turned the car north. She needed a few miles to herself before she could go back to the beach. She always needed a little bit of time to let Braden go.
Ellenora would have a few more days on the beach before she returned to her normal life and job at the café. She smiled as she looked down at the small diamond and emerald ring on her left hand. She pictured the giant offshore rig in her mind, surrounded by deep, blue ocean, and imagined the smell of grease and hard work that would adorn her husband when he returned home in three months time.
She stomped on the gas pedal, letting her tears and the yellow mustang fly.
Also – This is different – I’ve finally decided to join that “new-fangled” Twitter thingy!
Natashaski @ VBchick004