Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wissof-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – ceayr
Stanislav Dobrovski was a quiet man who never smiled. He used to sit at the same table at the local pub, cradling an obligatory bottle of wine.
Some say he was a sailor afraid of open seas, others say he was a pilot afraid of heights. On one thing they all agree…he was a strange man.
They all remember his last words before he dropped dead under the table.
Sand castles be cursed and damned I destroyed them all with my hand I dug out the hole so grand Under my life made of sand
Another thing they all agree…he was not much of a poet.