Another 100-word story to a writing prompt from https://rochellewisoff.com/. Thank you, Rochelle, for providing so much fun. Isn’t it strange, though, how many of us tend to write sad stories at what is supposed to be the happiest time of year.
The snow-covered bench curved ’round the gazebo. Its posts framed the steel-colored lake and the far shore. Alice had loved the cold, had loved sitting with her father while he read the poems of Robert Frost to her. Then the stranger came, and he and her father read the poetry to each other. Alice’s anger filled her mother’s willing ear.
Her father had left them to take a different road.
Now the gazebo no longer welcomed her. She was the stranger. She brushed snow off the bench, sat on its chill surface and began to read “The Road Not Taken”.
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