PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
If I could cast a magic spell I would not wish for doubloons nor gems large as apples, heavy as the ice that seals our well these bitter mornings past.
Ermine and mink, rivers of silk and satin hold no glamour in my heart. I seek no fortune or renown or any home outside our shuttered cottage, its mossy thatch, the scent of tallow and our lowing beasts.
The only spell I crave is to be made as stone, a sculpted woman with no flesh heart beating in its bony cage.
Perhaps then I should miss you less.
I struggled a bit with this one. Then I saw the back of that impressive sculpture in the foreground and thought of being turned to stone.
Apologies in advance. Due to work commitments I’m very late to the party and doubt I’ll Be able to read many other posts before FF comes round again. Sorry if I miss reading your story and many thanks if you take the time to read mine.