brush strokes.

of Roger Bulltot

Last night, before I slept, my chest hurt as if I’d been shot instead of her. Today I go to the same, but abandoned castle, and I touch the stone brick walls. Two years ago, I could have just travel to Genevieve’s time of 1815 without trying. But since her original year of death in the history is 1817, my connection with her faded as the days in my years passed. I go home to look at Genevieve’s unfinished, 1817 painting I bought last month—that stone-made castle and luscious green grass of her last brush strokes like a farewell.

september 01, 2017 prompt: friday fictioneers


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.


16 thoughts on “brush strokes.

  1. This conjures up the idea that the present and past are moving in synch. Between 2015 and 1815 there is a link. When that link died in 1817, the connection to two centuries later ended.

  2. You definitely had your thinking cap on writing this and used some complex ideas. Well done. My thinking cap disappeared awhile ago, although my flash had a bit of time travel of sorts. The crumbling ruins took me to that point.
    xx Rowena

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