Flash Freewrite #003 — Sacre Coeur

The stone is alabaster smooth, a warmth inside collected from the sun or the heat of other hands. He rolls it in his palms and thinks of his childhood. Trainers thudding, gravel flying, grubby hands searching for souvenirs just like this in the soil. He passes it from one hand to the other as he passes through memories.

Photo by Jack Castles on Unsplash

He looks down the endless white steps of Sacre Coeur, dotted with tourists, some…