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July Picture Prompt


Photo Credit: Daniel Howe

Elspeth looked out as the sun dipped below the horizon. Everything was in place and it was her last throw of the proverbial dice. If it didn’t work, she knew she would return, head low. Bowed. Broken. And she was under no illusion that he would break her; he’d certainly done his best the last time. He’d been sorry; he always was, but sorry didn’t heal the broken bones, or re-stitch the split lip. Her clothes were left in a neat pile – they would soon be found – and headed for the sea. In the next cove, her boat was waiting.

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