Edith’s feet and hands were chilled to the bone. She would go home. Soon. She didn’t have far to go. It was just to the left – or was it to the right?
Edith looked out across the river. She remembered riding on a ferry and her father buying her an egg cream. Oh, an egg cream would be lovely right now.
“Mrs. Mitchell?” a smiling police officer approached her.
Edith thought for a moment. “No, my name is Welch, Edith Welch.”
The officer smiled again.
“My daddy is just off buying me an egg cream. He will be back soon.”
word count: 100
Written in response to the 68th Challenge of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, week of 05-31 through 06-06-2016. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Barbara Taylor.