Cassandra looked out from the verandah of the grand columned house they’d built over to the hovel she and Alain had shared when she first came to this valley as a bride. They were happy then. Planning for the future, cutting large rocks from the hillside to create their dream home. The joy had left their marriage when they moved to the big house. She could have foretold the dangers. Didn’t Alain’s parents name him to protect him just as hers knew she could foretell. ‘Little rock.’ Apart from his name the only rocks Alain had were in his heart.
In response to photo prompt by Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers. Follow the blue frog to read other submissions.