(Photo Credit: John Brand)
Franceso made his way gingerly down the fleet of steps. He could have traversed this path blindfolded. Looking strikingly elegant and singularly dignified in his Dormeuil Vanquish II bespoke, he had a certain aura about him. A couple of stubborn lines on his forehead had begun to remind him about the passage of time. His immaculately polished pair of Magnanni Christians struck a rhythmic pattern as he reached the end of the steps. Clasped firmly, in one of his hands was a basic toolbox.
Turning to his right he stopped in front of the street lamp that had been shabbily grooved on to the stone wall. Opening the tool box, he took out a screw driver, unscrewed the casing of the streetlamp and replaced the fading bulb with a new one from his kit.
The glow from this very streetlight had been muted if not adequate. Yet this was the very light under whose refuge, a young Francesco had sat through the night with his books. This after walking 5 miles to reach the lamp. On some days the blisters in his feet had bled raw.
This was the 40th year since he changed the first bulb.
(Word Count: 198)
Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details, visit HERE.
Thanks to John Brand for the marvelous photograph