The Company Picnic

Photo prompt courtesy Susan Spaulding

It had been an ideal day for a picnic.

The deep blue waters of the Mediterranean seemed to be merging with the blue sky as if they were finally consummating their holy union. The warm rays of the sun beamed down on us in approval, as we stretched out our sheets in the grass and languorously sipped on our wine, opening up to each other about our lives on the mainland, our families, our neighbours, our friends.

The lunch started as breakfast and ended as supper, as we had our fill of the choicest of delicacies on our small island. And then, before we even realized it, we had dozed off, the food and the wine and the sun and the sea breeze mixing together beautifully to brew a heavenly concoction, a sleeping draught the likes of which we had never consumed before.

Which is how we now find ourselves here, in this dark, dank, putrid 8’X8′ cell. It’s a tad bit unfair, if you ask me. How were WE supposed to know that Napoleon Bonaparte would escape Elba on the very day that our Company of Guards, responsible for watching over him, was having its fun in the sun?

*************************************************************************************200 words.

Written as a part of Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Susan Spaulding. The challenge is to write a story in 200 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more details visit HERE. To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

 

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