Sepia tinted, spiralling lights made up of rubies, emeralds and ambers drifting through the sky. The sticky sweet stagnant air lingers on my breath a bitter sweet reminder of yesterday. A hollow sound whips through the empty rides, with the sorrow hum of loneliness. I break.
Sitting on the edge of the battered old swing set, the rusty chains creak as I move, making me feel slightly less alone. I adjust my vision, the bold black rims cracked and smudged with yesterdays memories. Tracing the line of my collar bone I clutch hold of a new silver chain lying solemnly against my chest, a prize of some sort won by some sweetheart that left me along with the night.
Context: a short story written at a creative writing session, I randomly chose an object, place, time of day and season (fairground, pair of glasses, morning and autumn)
the story tells the tale of a morning after a night at the fair, where the subject can not remember what happened, she is left with a new necklace, broken glasses and a blurred memory of the night before.
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