100 word story: Swans

Jane Dougherty Writes

They’re getting longer. The image from the twitter duel (see Harriet’s half) is proving persistent.

Painting by Winslow Homer


On the hill he waits, framed in silver against the night, hears her wringing hands, the yearning drumming in her blood. She watches her would-be lover, tall, night-dark, stars seething beneath his skin, feels the heat of the moon, listens to the wild night song. Behind her, the fire in the hearth fills the room with its red glare, but its heat is pale and cool compared with the flush of her cheeks. Stars tremble on the sky’s brow, an owl passes on silent wings, her heart flutters. Swans’ wings, black and white enfold him, enfold her, bearing them home.

View original post

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s