The view

This has always been the view from my room. A pretty walled garden, full of roses. I can’t smell the roses, but that’s actually good, as I can’t stand their sweet smell. But I still like to view the view.

Last week, a new person moved in. It’s a lady who likes to paint. She’s now blocking my view!

Who does she think she is to block my view like that, standing all day in ‘my’ garden to paint her silly ugly paintings?

I’ll file a complaint! That cannot happen! This view is mine and I don’t want it changed! No painting ladies standing on the garden!


The nurse comes to check on Bathilda. She seems troubled lately. Ever since a new patient was admitted at the hospice.

This post has been written is response to the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, with photo prompt provided by Graham Lawrence, and contains 128 words.


To check other stories inspired by this prompt, click the froggie below.