Water Wheel Dreams

Sue's Water Wheel

There have been a few writing prompts that I’ve missed this past week, including this one from Sue at The Daily Echo, for which the deadline was yesterday. Sue shared this lovely photo of an abandoned water mill, and challenged us to write something to go with it.

Even though I missed the deadline I ended up writing something, as I thought Sue’s photo was so evocative. And here it is:

Once we turned, the river and I. Rushing, foaming, past walls of stone, as the great grindstones turned like teeth in a giant’s jaw. Dust floating on the wind, chaff blown like fairy breath across the water as men called and women worked, the wooden floors groaning with grain.

Now we are silent, the river and I. No water to turn me, I am bound with green, while stone turns to dust and the fields lie fallow where once was grain. Yet sometimes, when the days are cool and the air just right, I dream of water, of blue, of an endless torrent.

And I turn again, though only in a dream.

I hope you don’t mind that this is a little bit late, Sue! đŸ™‚

If you’d like to see some other responses to this prompt, visit Sue’s blog.