This week's prompt returned to its roots with no dragon bidding, just 150-word stories (+/- 10) on this photo:
Caitria braced herself on the stone railing encircling Rosetta Vineyard’s primary terrace. Rolling vines carpeted the land below her, shadowed by seamless clouds gathered on the horizon. Oddly poignant, sunlight pierced the remaining wine in her glass, dappling the stone with carmine.
Her fingers curled around the glass, index finger tracing the vineyard’s crest, and Caitria sighed. She lifted the wine skyward, then tilted the glass, pouring three distinct sips onto the land for the man whose dream survived him.
The man who’d taken her under his wing when she was young enough not to know she needed him.
The man who’d cultivated her dream while fighting for his own.
The man whose own son had turned his back on the vines he’d grown alongside, preferring a fancy office in a skyscraper to the land.
The man who’d died so long ago, but never left her heart.