When Harley called me to pick her up from the party, I panicked.
“What happened honey?” I asked, searching for signs of dodgy activity.
Remembering our pact to let her set the pace on such discussions, I tried to stay calm, testing my nerves sorely.
“It didn’t feel right, every time they passed the party mix … don’t freak out mum I didn’t try it.”
Sigh of relief.
“I kept remembering the words on the gravestone …”
“Dad took us to the navy cemetery ….”
“Die for something worth living for … the grave was for a twenty-one year old officer”.
Written in honour of soldiers who died for peace … something worth living for.
In response to Friday fictioneers writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by J Hardy Carroll and the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting it, thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.
Also written for NaBloPoMo day eleven.