For Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.
photo by Girl with red hat via Unsplash
It was spring, the birds were singing madly, the alley was hung with roses, and her feet flew as she ran to meet him, standing open-armed in the doorway at the end.
The future had been strewn with rose petals, a long sun-lit alley of fragrance and happiness, where they would walk side by side, hand in hand.
The alley is empty now; her feet drag through drifts of dead leaves, and at the end, the door is closed and locked, the dream fading.