Photo credit, (c) Ted Strutz
Ever the skeptic, Billy was only there to prove Roma wrong.
“What drunk left that there,” he’d asked, laughing.
“You haven’t heard the legend of the Lady of Larson’s Lake?” Roma spoke in a mysterious tone.
“Um, no, but I guess you’ll tell me?”
“She sits there at midnight, waiting for her husband who drowned here when the lake was full and deep. They say she’s beautiful.”
Billy shivered now, as a woman in a soiled ball gown with shimmering hair down to her mid-back walked out in the ankle-deep water and took her seat at the “throne.” Waiting.
(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2017
Friday Fictioneers opens up every Friday with a Photo prompt to which you may write any sort of Fiction response. It is flash fiction, so your response must be less than 100 words. Check out other entries and more specifics at https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/02/08/10-february-2017/
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