For Sonya’s Three Line Tales prompt.
photo by Peter Gonzalez via Unsplash
When he moved them to the city, drawn by the lights, the life, the bubbling creativity (and the shops, it has to be said), she had acquiesced; they could always get out again.
That was years ago, and the city has grown, tentacular and voracious, eating up the countryside around, even the agricultural land disappearing under concrete and tarmac, until now it has meshed with the outskirts of the neighbouring cities.
These days, he takes her out in the car to get a change of scene, to watch the traffic lights change colour.