“Arriving at the beach, she reflected on her life.”

Lenora squinted at the white capped sea thinking of Alerion and the Château de Montagne.

She had taken this weekend at the coast for herself. Alerion was supportive as always but this time…


She tossed her shovel aside. Quickly kneeling down she began scooping at the rocky sand, fighting the tide trying to rush in. Little cuts began to sting along her skin but she didn’t care.

Sun rays danced in her eyes off wet black painted steel banded around an old wooden barrel.

The map was left behind by a limping bearded guest at the Château de Montagne who had left in such a haste the map fell under the bed as he packed. She thought it odd he always wore sun glasses, even inside.

To be fair she did try to contact him but he left no number.

Turning the small barrel in her hands the initials L.J.S. were almost completely weathered away.

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham


Read Other Stories and Post your Own!

May 13th, 2015

Posted In: 100 Word Stories, Château de Montagne, Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories

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