Drabble on a Sunday

Rarely do I sit down and write now a days because of life.
Either I'm working at my job, or I'm working around the house.

Today, I sat down and wrote.

It's a drabble of sorts, not quite as short as I'd like it to be, but not quite long enough to be called anything else.

What prompted it?
Silly as it seems, it was the smell of my dad's grill cooking meat.

~*~

“The sky reeks of burning ash, and yet you have me sitting here sipping wine,” she glares towards her capture from across the room.

“If I didn't, you'd be dead or in some sort of mishap. Of course I'd keep you here,” he nods coolly.

“Then let me out. Set me free and I'll be able to do something,” she stands up and began to pace; her wine glass passing from hand to hand.

“That is impossible. I do not even have the power to grant that, even if I so chose to, and you know that all ready. Now if you'd just sit-”

“I can't do this! Being a prisoner is one thing, but being a dictated puppet is quite another!” The glass shattered as she ran from the room.  

~*~

Found this picture afterwards, and thought it fit the mood.

~*~

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,

SDG

Joy