So this week's picture.
The water was tranquil.
Alison trailed her fingers in it, and waited.
Exactly on time he approached it and slipped in with hardly a ripple.
Her heart beat faster as stroke by stroke the distance between them decreased. He stood up and let the water stream off him.
Her pain and worry drained away, as he grinned, reached for her and spoke softly.
"Ma Belle, are you ready?"
Alison stretched up and touched…
Seventy-five years from his death and she would never forget how Jacques loved the water.
Which is why it was ironic it was water that killed him.
War was hell.
Catch the other #FFF posts,
same picture, different words,
Love R x