PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
I welcome the cool fresh air softly cosseting my skin. The gentle eddies in the water mirror the ripples of my life. That’s all they are now: ripples. The white horses of the past have been slayed, more accurately, the white horse has been slayed. Events will challenge me in the weeks to come, of that I am sure, but the possibilities ahead do not alarm me. The chaos that previously resided in my mind has gone, replaced by a calm serenity. I inhale deeply, regard the colourful reflections in the water, then toss the knife into the ripples below.
Word Count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.