Quakers often speak of holding somebody in the light – meaning to give them hope, peace and respite from their anxieties and suffering.
So I took this as my cue for Friday’s Fictioneers’ Flash Fiction. Once a week a picture is posted by Rochelle on her blog and the challenge of no more than hundred words to tell a story.
“There’s always light at the end of the tunnel!”
“Oh, please, I hate that expression.”
“You’re such a pessimist.”
She huffed. “Am not! I’m a realist. You never see my point of view.”
“Stay right there.” He walked away from her, his outline fading into the gloom.
She squinted, trying to make out his striding figure, then he disappeared. “Where are you?” Her voiced bounced off the concrete. “Don’t go…I was kidding. I never meant to say never. Hello?” She shivered.
A scratch. A spark. A flame.
The end of the tunnel lit up. “See,” he called out. “Always hope.”