A new Monday has come, bringing a new Mondays Finish the Story challenge featuring a picture of my least-favourite landmark (no offense, Eiffel Tower lovers, but it just isn’t for me.) Never one to shirk a challenge, I have indeed finished the story. The original prompt can be found here.
Word Count: 150
As her mount shifted uneasily under her, she grasped the brim of her old felt Stetson, gazed upwards and remembered Jean Pierre.
“Easy,” she said softly.
It wasn’t really a great surprise that the horse was spooked or that she was remembering Jean-Pierre. After all, they were back in Paris, staring at that vast metal structure.
I remember the first time I saw it, walking with Jean-Pierre.
“There it is,” I said, mouth open, finger pointing. “The Eiffel Tower.”
“A tourist trap,” he scoffed, hands in his pockets. “When it was built, the people thought it was hideous and wanted it torn down. But the foreigners, the tourists, they loved it. So it stayed.”
She looked at the tower, bent and twisted and broken, but still mostly intact.
It’s still standing, Jean-Pierre. Europe is a wasteland. You’re dead. But the tower’s still here.
She stood there a moment longer, then gave a tug on the horse’s reigns, spurring the creature on. It would be dark soon and memories were a poor shelter.