The Last Dance Of Purple.


Thank you Sue Vincent for the picture promptπŸ”œ press πŸ”™here to join in with #write photo.

Not knowing where she was, Mable shook free her hair and tried to clear her head. On the horizon colours reflected like a kaleidoscope bouncing light from the setting sun to the frozen brook. She blinked and flinched as memories rushed in. The cold hard floor, the biting rope, the rumble of an empty stomach and the taste of metal on her tongue. Her only hope was to get as far away as possible before the sun disappeared and her view was lost. The terrible reality of her ordeal thrust home but refusing to acknowledge it she pushed on.

Mabel stumbled on towards the light; her head flicking back constantly to see if she was followed. A loss of concentration and she tripped on a root; her footing was lost. One wet stocking told her she was in serious trouble. Plunging ungracefully through the ice, no matter how much thrashing and praying Mabel had done; it was in vain. As if in slow motion she was sucked deeper and further from the bank. The cold was all encompassing her body felt heavy and numb. A muffled scream was heard by a startled Muntjac who answered the cry with a bark.

Through her frost tipped lashes and the opaque ice… she watched the last dance of purple light fade, the silent sunset gone, with the harrowing blink of an eye.

Do pay me by leaving a comment, my spirits will lift and I will be encouraged inspired to write more… besides I love to tell you a story and leave you guessing. *whispers* what was she running from?

32 thoughts on “The Last Dance Of Purple.

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