In this week’s writing challenge, you’ll write a post using three photographs for inspiration.
It was her regular haunt, a place where she could sit beneath the hanging flowers and listen to the tiny frogs splashing in the water in the nearby pond. No one knew of this place – at least not her friends. This was her secret place, a haven where she could enjoy her cappuccino, power up her macbook and just write.
Write till her cappuccino grew cold and she’d need another cup along with something else to fight off the caffeine shakes if she waited too long. Maybe a muffin, if she wasn’t feeling like having an omelet or fried eggs and ham, for the latter usually left her stomach feeling weird.
The cats would watch her as they lounged on the steps, doing what cats did best beneath the shade of the hanging flowers. They did nothing else, the languid heat seeming to melt them onto the cement steps where they’d stay for most of the morning. By the time the sun would steal into their shady spot, it was time for them – and her – to go. Back to the hustle and bustle of her real world, where most days except for the days she found herself here, she could barely hear her thoughts.
But this was a treat – yes, it was. And as she sipped her cappuccino, smelling the sweet scent of hanging flowers all around her, she smiled. She still had some time. Yes, a little bit of time to herself.
And she would make every second count, she thought, just as the tiny frog that had been hiding beneath the shade of the lily pad emerged, and hopped into the water for a swim.