Once again, thanks to Freya for pointing out this writing meme.
Alastair is both a writer and a photographer. The idea of Alastair’s Photo Fiction is that a photo that he has taken is used as a prompt for flash fiction – a short story – or poem of around 150 words.
The waves were licking Ailsa’s toes. She took another step into the water, then another. The sea was grey and rough, the beach empty. She was shivering, despite the navy pullover she had kept on. She bit fiercely on the hair she had been chewing all along and froze when she realised her shorts were wet.
She rubbed her nose, the sand only making the tears and snivelling worse. All she could hear were the waves and her sobs coming and going in unison.
Ever since Mum had come back with the silly baby boy, nothing was the same. Where was the fun she had been promised? It was all about him, him. She might as well be swallowed by the sea, nobody would ever notice.
Then Ailsa heard her before she felt whisked off her feet in a swift embrace of Chanel, silk and red hair.
She was a daughter again.