For information on #FlashMarch and what’s going on here, check out Day 1.
Prompt from Eve Deverell’s 30 Day Flash Fiction Challenge:
Day 5: The story of how your parents met, transposed to the Victorian era.
This one is actually really interesting because my parents met in high school at a gas station. Yep.
Ilkley Moor Yorkshire England UK
The moors were disquiet today. The local schoolhouse had just let out and the young boys, simple in their interests after a long day of whatever maths they were pretending to know, had flocked to the foggy shores of the small pond to skip rocks and swap aggressions. Youthful Yvonne was also there, filling up the tanks of her lungs with the sickly sweet air of the afternoon. She twirled her parasol gently as she stood beside her carriage—a new gift from her father, the Baron—looking off into the distance as if to say “I didn’t even notice this was a moor, in all honesty”.
However, in her attempts to look disinterested by gazing afar, her eyes caught like a lump in her throat with a boy across the moors. His gaze was hard like steel, yet calm like, well, I guess steel is also pretty calm most of the time. His bushy mustache obscured most of the rest of his face, but Yvonne knew it was both kind and determined. After a moment that felt like more than that (so, like, a very long moment) Yvonne smiled and tipped her head to the bottom right—an indication of affection so aggressive that if her governess had seen it, she would have surely thrown herself into the pond from the scandal.
After an even longer moment (I think we can call this one a bit) the boy returned the smile and turned away. It was now clear that they were to be wed. As Yvonne beamed internally (like a flashlight under the covers) the boy hopped astride his wheeled log he had just invented sixty years too early, and rode off, deeper into the fog. What was once a glance, perchance to become magic (my dad’s name is Magic, so this is a fun little wordplay I added at the end here).