Sunday Photo Fiction: Fate Awaits

Traitor's Gate

A Mixed Bag

The marriage lasted a mere 28 days; now Mary found herself locked in the tower, awaiting her fate. Admittedly, her situation was dire, but at least they had not brought her through the Traitor’s Gate. Unlike her sister Jane, death was off the table.

Still, death would be preferable to a life without Thomas. Mary, dwarfishly proportioned, was an abomination, Courtiers made no attempt to conceal their titters as she passed. Not Thomas, however. He looked beyond her ugliness and saw purity. Now, because of her, his love had become his death sentence. She cursed that first drop of royal blood that contaminated her life, and her parents who conceived such an atrocity.

My birth sealed my fate, she thought.

Maybe if she had been less rash. Her cousin may not have granted permission to marry, but not asking; that was unforgivable. Now she would never know.

The clank of the large iron door jerked Mary away from her thoughts. The Queen’s guard stood in the portal.

“Her majesty awaits,” he said stoically.

Nothing could have changed things, she told her herself. Fate controls our destiny.

Reminding herself that she was a Grey, Mary boldly walked through the door.

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Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a short 200-word story inspired by a photograph. This week’s photo is provided by A Mixed Bag.

 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Uncle Hector

Chimenea

@ Dawn Miller

 

“How about this one?”

Carol eyed the clay fireplace on display at Home Depot. “It looks like your Uncle Hector. Same toothless grin.”

Derek glared at Carol. Hector was his favorite uncle and Derek his staunchest defender. Hoping to make it better, Carol smiled as if to say she couldn’t help being an ass.

“Not orange enough,” said Derek.

Now it was Carol’s turn to look muddled. What does the color of the have to do with anything? As if reading her mind, Derek explained.

“Remember when Hector used that spray-on tan? He was twice as orange as this thing.” Derek laughed and the tension dissolved.

Relieved, Carol sighed. “I like it. It has character. It would be nice on cool nights. We could sit on the patio and drink wine. All night if we wanted”

Derek moved closer to Carol and looked deep into her brown eyes. “What if we want to do a little more than talk on those cold nights. I sure as heck don’t want Uncle Hector watching us.”

Carol wrapped her arms around Derek’s neck and whispered in his ear.

“I guess we will just have to move the lounge chair out of sight.”

 ~~~~~

This story was written based on a photo prompt posted in Sunday Photo Fiction – March 5, 2017

Photo credit belongs to Dawn Miller

Word count 198.