Friday Foto...

I came across this painting on Photobucket yesterday and was immediately captivated.  At first I thought, there's a story here.  Two lovers caught in a storm, date night, or maybe an affair.  The rain you can tell must be cold, like little drops of ice on your skin...and yet, they are out in it, just to be near each other one more time.  I wonder what the true story is...or maybe the true story is the one Mz. Muse feeds into this authors brain.

Friday Flash Fiction - Rain

Rain fell against the bedroom window, tapping out a sexy rhythm the lovers moved too. Every thrust and withdrawal timed to match the slow sound of the Angel’s weeping. The writer in her ached to put words to the perfectness of the moment. Hot, sweaty, furious, pounding, delectable…. The woman she was begged the writer to shut up and enjoy the moment. Live outside her head for now and feel the highs her husband was taking her too. They had so little time left. Time she needed to say goodbye. She prayed the rain would continue long enough for her to wash away the pain and loss of their end.