|Copyright - Anelephantcant|
Though it was hardly an expensive treasure, Anna, nevertheless, took effort to loop the chain around the trunk of a sturdy tree. The shabby bicycle was her only transport in the war-ravaged city and, more importantly, all she had left to remember her Zaide Saul. So much had been lost to her she would not relinquish this.
She smoothed her hair, checking her reflection in the single, unbroken pane of glass the café boasted. She banished thoughts of her youth, of lost love and of university abandoned and made of her face the smiling mask the soldiers within would expect.
The story was written for the weekly Friday Fictioneers flash fiction photo prompt.