This is my story for #FridayPictureShow
By Lisa McCourt Hollar
A rope bridge stretched in front of her, fog obscuring the other side. Gram’s voice called, but fear held Tracy back. What if she fell?
It was the same dream she had every night…every night except last. Last night she knew what would happen if she fell. It was Ted’s voice that had mocked her through the mist.
When she woke, Tracy went to the backyard. Gardening always relaxed her. Except she found the rose bush dug up, Ted’s body gone. A voice whispered. Turning, she saw him, grinning through decaying lips. He held the shovel she’d buried him with.
Word Count: 100