Time for another flash fiction effort with the Friday fictioneers, hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Here is the picture prompt:
They stop on the bridge looking down over the harbour. She grips the railings like she might jump. Next to her, he touches a finger to his lips. ‘Salt,’ he says.
‘Which boat would you choose, if you could, to go home in?’ Her voice is dreamy.
He’s thinking of moules et frites in the little café not two hundred yards away. ‘Home?’ It’s almost a foreign word.
‘Yes. Not that one with the cracked keel; it wouldn’t even make it across the Mediterranean. But, oh, look!’ She’s jumping up and down.
He follows her finger.
‘The dhow,’ she says. ‘Of course! What better boat to sail back to Africa!’