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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Between finishing a novel, writing a book proposal and visiting my one and only brother, I’ll be somewhat out of pocket for the the next couple of weeks. Therefore it’s SUMMER RERUN TIME. For those of you who recognize this prompt from 2013 and were part of Friday Fictioneers, feel free to reprise your own story.
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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
In March 1956, the year I turned fourteen, my best friend was murdered. They found her mangled body wedged in a rock crevice at Koutu Point.
For days I refused to get out of bed. No amount of Mum’s tea and sympathy could ease my broken heart or stem my anger.
The winter wind off the Tasman Sea brought waves of loneliness.
Never again will Opo and I swim together in Hokianga Harbour, but whenever I watch a dolphin spin above the water in gleeful abandon, I see her.
I hope the fisherman who blew up my Opo exploded, too.