15th of May every year, Frank and Bill met at the bench.

They reminisced about old times. About meeting their sweethearts that day on the rollercoaster at Coney Island. About the lives they’d had together. The good times. The sad times. About growing old and being alone.

‘Ready?’

‘Of course!’

Then they’d ride the rollercoaster together.

But not this year. The park was closed. The bloody pandemic.

And not next year. Or any year after. Frank would still go, but he would sit alone and watch the rollercoaster and then leave.

There was no joy in riding it alone.

The bloody pandemic.

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Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

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