George

The given words at Sunday's Whirligig are mayor, steps, close beyond, never, forgotten, begin, health, age, enter, senior and adventure. I've used most of them! 

The picture at this week's Friday Fictioneers comes to us courtesy of Sandra. Rochelle is hosting as ever!




He could see France from up here. Often he would stand and gaze out beyond the blue water to the land that was for so many years home to him and his beloved wife Mathilde.

Mathilde suddenly passed away. She was no age but poor health claimed her. He returned home and became my neighbour. There was no one here to greet him. No family, and his friends were long forgotten. He was so lonely.

Sometimes he came here and watched the seagulls as they stepped from the cliffs’ edge, and soared heavenward. He envied them.

I’ve brought some flowers with me. They’re from his garden. And I've made a little wooden cross on which I've written his name, George. I’ve placed it close to the edge. I think he'd like that.

The cliff in the picture prompt is very like the white chalk one near my home, Beachy Head. Sadly, it is where at least twenty people come each year and end their lives. Many more are persuaded not to by the chaplains that patrol the edge day and night. 

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