We walked through the underground tunnels. The walls were adorned with paintings from various university groups and resident houses. I stopped and studied one particular piece carefully.
At first sight it looked like a jumbled mess of colourful paint but on closer inspection intricate details sprung forward from the design. I stepped closer and read the small messages scratched in ink on top of the painting. Some of the messages seemed typical of twenty-something year olds, but most were sweet and loving.
“Are you coming?” My husband’s voice echoed down the tunnel.
I traced my finger over the word ‘love’. “Be right there.” My eyes continued their inspection. Marked just above the painting was the name of the house. I smiled; it was our son’s house. A tear rolled down my cheek as I looked back from where we’d come. Our son would be just fine and so would we.
Flash fiction prompt provided by http://www.writerlycorner.com/writerly-prompts/writerly-wednesday-9282016.