Tess Kincaid hosts this meme. Thank you, Tess J Each week she posts a photograph from her
archive to act as a visual prompt and followers respond as they see fit. Some
versify, some don’t. Click here to see entries and perhaps join in.
Under Windsor Bridge, 1912, by Adolphe Valette
He trudged along the river bank, hands thrust deep into the
pockets of his heavy overcoat. Nearing the bridge, he stopped, pulling his hat
down over his head and tightening his scarf against the invasive damp. Horses’
hooves clattered along the road overhead and the rumble of carriage wheels
drummed and hummed in the dank air.
A yellow grey fog drifted across the greasy water, wreathing the
passing barges and diffusing the light from their lanterns. The dreariness of
the scene suited his mood and he stared into the murky depths of the river,
remembering.
There was only one thing that would release him from his
melancholy. Cleansing the city of its filth made him euphoric. Those do-gooders
who claimed that all human life was to be valued were wrong. He saw the expression
in the eyes of the girls as he strangled them and knew they were grateful to be
released.
