PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala
\Snap, crackle, pop. The fire breathes a life of its own. A connection between two worlds. A pit of messages from the dead to the living. If only they would turn on their senses. The deceased wait, patience the equivalent to thin ice. “Silly girl, don’t marry that slob!”
Jenny stares into the flame, lost in thought.
“Come on Jenny, it’s your hens night. Smile.”
Jenny forces her lips up and nods at her sister. Gathering herself, Jenny turns away from the heat. She pauses.
“Do you hear that?”
“What? Granny not wanting you to marry? She’s been nagging all night.”
Prompt provided by Friday Fictioneers
Other stories featuring the prompt can be found here