English Ivy

Jul 15th, 2016 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Flamboyant scarlet blossoms arched twisting, winding heirloom English ivy. An

unexpected downpour ignored by the water-soaked guests. Whitewashed mason jars

splashed crimson pallets of rustic rural splendor. The music began, he stood nervously

waiting, looking down at his rented black shoes. She grasped her father’s arm. Fervent

desire charged fiery passion. Sugary words melted sultry shadows. Fireflies and fairy

dust lit moonless nights. Silence invited the darkness. Substance replaced by distance;

whiskey preferred to a kiss. Emotions frost bit in autumn’s showy splendor she’d climb

grasping, experiencing struggle with the fortitude of English ivy. She knew he watched

her sleep.

From Guest Contributor Christy Schuld

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