The affair had been stupid, a typical middle-aged spasm to prove there was still life in the old dog.

The grey tarmac rolled on in front of him, miles of it already lay behind. On the horizon ahead, blue sky met blue sea.

‘Why the hire car?’ she had asked when she had picked him up for their secret weekend away.

‘My own car is too distinctive,’ he smiled at her. Her twenty-year old conspiratorial smile beamed as she slipped into the passenger seat.

He rounded a curve and pulled in to the familiar lay-by. It hadn’t changed in the intervening years since his last visit.

The early morning silence assured him no other cars were approaching.

Moving the dead weight from the passenger seat to the driver’s side was unpleasant. He thanked her silently for the last chance to relive his youth, wiping her brunette hair away from her placid face.

Then he closed the door and pushed.

He watched until the surface of the water settled before lifting his backpack and setting off back along the road.

He was expected home for family dinner at six. Whistling along with the morning birds, he set off along the road.

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit HERE.

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE