“Honey, what’s happening?” His wife whined. “I can’t be hanging laundry in this kind of weather and don’t blame me about our electric bill this month!”
Glancing out the window, the screenwriter effortlessly glided his fingertips through his thinning, almost white hair.
He watched the invading dark clouds, again, forcefully directing the incoming storm.
After thirty years of failed screenplays, the cursor key blinked for the last time.
Please forgive your loving husband.
I arrived at the dream but drove off halfway. In time, I lost my faith to keep afloat in the storm debris.
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Inspiration: Friday Fictioneers, the weekly 100 – word photo prompt story community. Link your story with the Linkz icon and enjoy the variety of stories from so many creative writers from around the world.
Photo Source: Kelly Sands