It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Copyright -Mary Shipman
He glanced up at the once grand and graceful building. Its walls still stood tall and erect. But it was stripped of its finery. Its fine coat had long ago faded. Boards bared their decay.
The windows stared back at him, their lifeless eyes devoid of their sheen. A shadow floated past. He shivered in the gathering dusk. He saw the woman’s ashen face.
He gave one final look. He remembered the life that once was – the light, the warmth of laughter, the clink of glasses, music, dancing….
They once were but no more. It was time to move on.