Wrought Iron Fences – Fiction

Here is my submission for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  Thanks to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge.  Click the lil froggy for more stories.

The photo is given us by Sonya over at Only 100 Words.

sunflowersWrought Iron Fences

“Your favorite, Mom, see?” my daughter asks. She’s come to visit me at the retirement home. She’s brought a bouquet of sunflowers. “Remember that German you had a crush on?”

And I smile to remember him. He was a prisoner of war. It was 1944 down in the Parish, near the Bayou. A holding place we called St. Jude’s Square – the saint of hopeless causes.

“Girls! Girls!”  Sister Simone would reprimand. “Look ahead! Stop gawking!”

Each day, when our class walked round the block, we’d pass St. Jude’s Square. We’d never seen men with hair so blonde or eyes so blue. Or bodies so tall and muscular.

“Pray for their souls!” Sister Simone would plead.  “Pray!”

And I did pray for their souls. I prayed that one of their souls would mesh with mine. I didn’t know any different than to follow my heart. I didn’t see anything other than sunflowers clinging to wrought iron fences and blue eyes I’d never see again.

Ellespeth

40 thoughts on “Wrought Iron Fences – Fiction

  1. I love this one, Ellespeth. Sister Simone’s way of praying for their souls, I’m sure, was quite different than the girls. Walking around the block and passing St Jude’s was probably the hi-light of their day!

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  2. Love the school girl crush on the prisoners of war take to the prompt! It tickled me – St. Jude is the Saint for hopeless causes. LOL! This crush was apparently her hopeless cause. 😀 😀 Great story Ellespeth!

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