I wasn’t going to participate this week, but Maggie Duncan's picture prompt was so pretty I just had to write something. It’s not exactly a short story, but I think it’s a pretty piece. To read some really impressive bits of micro-fiction check out the official list of this week’s participants.
The fog stole his breath. It was amazing how it could turn something as mundane as the sheep pasture into a place that felt like the setting for a fairytale. He drank it in, letting the beauty consume him until a faint sound captured his attention. Nerves skittered and his stomach churned as he picked up the musket he’d propped against the trunk of the Maple tree. He was aware of his comrades moving to stand by his side, their eyes straining to see what was coming towards them. He raised his hand, soundlessly singling them to charge, to meet their attackers, and wondered how many foggy mornings he had in his future.