Standing in that room was like standing inside a giant collapsing lung. The plastic sheets billowed in from the wooden frame, suffused with pink, organic light, rounded like alveoli by the gusts of a heavy wind. The sheets cracked like tiny bones fracturing in the pressure of deep water. Outside, the sea sifted into the pebbles along the shore and sucked at the spaces between the rocks, drowning breaths, though far away and out of sight.
He hadn’t seen the body himself but the coroner’s report had been conclusive, and now – well, now the renovations seemed unnecessary.
This story is my response Madison Woods’ Friday Fictioneers prompt (the picture, from her blog, is the prompt). Check out the other stories (including Madison’s) and submit your own on the comments page!
Between this one and last week’s, I really think I need to take a more positive approach to the next prompt. Feedback and other stories welcome below!