The grey devoured everything; the ashen sea bled into a stone sky, one steel day bled into another. Every day endless, seamless, pointless.
She ached from the weight of her chains; husband, children, career. Each a grinding fetter of expectation and duty. Like these rocks, life seemed treacherous; slippery and brutally sharp beneath feet that felt raw. She walked to the edge, looking into the swirling water. Cold, deep, colourless. Attractive. She slipped beneath the grey, awaiting release from burden.
The grey surrounded her, invaded her. Became her. Grey was all she would ever be.
But the chains remained.
Word Count: 100
A depressing visit to Friday Fictioneers this week.
If this is your first visit to my blog, Friday Fictioneers (hosted by Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple)- where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less, inspired by a weekly photo prompt. If you want to check out the other stories, or submit your own, click ‘here‘. This week’s photo is provided by C.Hase.
Come to think of it, I’ve never figured out how the photos are chosen or submitted. I’ll have to ask someday.
Anyway, let me know what you think of it – does it make sense?