Thanks Joy. Details of the 100 – 150 word challenge are here:
The Air Museum was relaxing and surprisingly no-one took much notice of the young man with red hair and horn rimmed glasses.
He sat staring longingly at the Hawk, wishing he could be like its namesake, flying high and free above the earth.
He had been played like a fiddle, her relatives coming out of the woodwork for their five minutes of fame. She revelled in the attention, playing a part, but as hollow as the engine bays of the crafts above him.
He could see it in the photographs, the smile not reaching her eyes, the positioning of her hand on his sleeve, the tell-tale way she made sure she was in direct line of the camera and slightly in front of him, her forced laugh.
He was making a mistake. He knew it, but could not walk away now.