A Picture Says...Week 1

Hi there, this post is part of a fortnightly blog-off I'm part of with some writing friends.  Each time there's a picture to set the theme and we all then write 500 words.  It's a bit of creative fun, so read on if you wish.  
Big thanks to www.kellyexeter.com.au for getting the ball rolling and the creative juices flowing!
We'll be back to our regular scheduled blogging later this week....

A picture says 500 words

As the kids played in the waves, unburdened with the naivety of youth, their parents discussed how best to break the news.

Like the receding tide, her bottle of wine was emptying.  Warmed by the afternoon sun, its bitterness felt almost medicinal. 
“So, we’ll talk to them at dinner tonight, then I’ll pack and be out by the morning.”  His tone was so business-like, it’s the only side she had seen of him for so long. 
“Sure.”  There was nothing else that could be said.

The decision had been his.  Now that you think of it, they had all been his: the big impersonal wedding, the house in the suburbs and the children, all three within quick succession.   Her life, her dreams felt like a distant memory and the fact that she now would have control of her own decisions terrified her.  Even their vanilla scented shower wash was his decision.
“Lavender or Orange?”  She’d said it out loud.
“What?” He barked in return.

The tension was broken by their youngest, Claire, a beautiful spirit who was impossible not to smile around.  She leapt into her father’s lap smothering him with kisses and sand.
“What’s for dinner guys?  We’re starving!  Can we have chips?  Can we eat at that park again?  Does Tom have to get that calamari again?  It’s gross!” 
The questions rattled at machine gun pace.  Where do they get this energy she wondered? 

She wriggled her toes in the cool sand and wished that like her feet she could disappear, forget this was happening and escape on her own to Morocco or somewhere fabulous like that.  Spend her days reading and drinking tea and her nights dancing.

The sound of her children calling her broke her daydream, “MUM!” They all screamed, each with their different demand. 

Her husband helped her to her feet and for an instant their eyes met in a moment of compassion.  She took a deep breath and like two wounded soldiers, walked arm in arm toward the conversation they’d been dreading.