Rick's Free Write
They never had taken a real holiday. There was never time when you ran your own business. Claude had always needed to stay close to the garage, the only one in their small village in the central western hills of France.
And there's was never enough spare Euros to consider hotels and fancy meals in Michelin-rated restos.
Finally retired, the French pension system made it possible to consider a trip to the seaside in the south.
Brigette's advancing cancer made it a necessity.
There hadn't been much leftover money for doctors, either, and the rapid advance to Stage3 pancreatic cancer had come as a shock still reverberating as they walked through the square, mostly deserted by the hordes of tourists who had gone home.
Claude and Brigette never had any children. Never had a dog or a cat. Claude said they might get hurt in the garage. They only had each other all these years.
And soon they wouldn't.
But even so, today was a good day, and they would enjoy their first holiday.
D-L's Free Write
Eva held Paul's hand as they walked across the tree-lined square.
September holidays were the best. Parents were back at work after seeing their little darlings off to the new school year.
What if it was only a weekend away.
This was the first time in months she and Paul had any time together. They had been too busy with work. She'd normally come home by seven or eight. Often she went to bed alone and woke up alone, his side of the bed rumpled.
Even weekends he locked himself in his man cave.
This holiday she hoped for beach time, good food in a French restaurant, cuddling, even making love.
Two cafés were on the south side of the square across from the old marie and now a music school.
"Let's have an espresso," she said.
"What a smiley waitress," she said taking her first sip.
"I've taken apartment in town." He didn't look at her.
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