Tag Archives: short short

A Dare

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

The town is full of mill buildings, some going back 200 years.  Most have been converted to modern uses, like boutique shops, apartments or small businesses.

And then there is the Sturgess factory.

I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.  The original building, a cotton mill, burned to the ground with 75 workers, all girls between 14 and 25, locked inside.  A garment factory grew on the site, but it was converted to chemicals.  It killed the river and most of the workers.

They say nobody living has been inside.

So, what do you say, join me exploring it on Halloween? Continue reading

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I’ll Be Right Back

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

The story about Great-grandfather’s shoes again?  I guess it’s appropriate tonight, since it’s been exactly 50 years to the day.

Great-grandfather was a bit eccentric, saying “spacemen” were spying on him.  A guy from the government stopped by, and left laughing.

One evening there was a knock on the door.  When Great-grandfather answered it, a burst of light filled the house.  All that remained of Great-grandfather were his charred shoes.

Before they took Grandfather away, he constantly said the “spacemen” would be back in 50 years.

Hmm, who could be at the door at this hour?  I’ll be right back…

— — Continue reading

Desolation

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PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

Desolate.  Barren.  Miles of nothing.  Only the hardiest plants survive in the desert, and even those were dying in the drought.

“Why the long face?” Mother asked.  “Oh, by the way, Shelly left you a note.”

There were tire tracks in the boundless lands!  Rain bearing clouds.   Was there hope?

“I just wanted to tell you never to talk to me again!  Don’t even look at me!  I’m sending this note so I don’t have to pollute my air with your presence.”

The tire tracks were gone.  The clouds brought only ground burning lightning, not rain.  The desert stretched forever. Continue reading

Glow of the Evening

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PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

We walked up the never-healed wound of a 19th century wagon trail.  This was forgotten land, rarely trodden in modern days, awash in legend.  But there were rumors.

“I  see no signs that anybody has been this way in decades,” I said, but my daughter, Jenna, grew more determined.

As the sun set, I could see the glow of the distant city on the horizon, a warning to all.

Nearer at hand, though, was the unmistakable landbound stars of campfires.

Jenna pointed.  “There is yet life here.”

I nodded.  The deepest desert had to be better than the radioactive cities.

— — — Continue reading

An Early Morning Paddle

Greg picked held the paddle up and let the kayak drift with the tidal current.  He took a deep breath and listened to the calls of early morning birds.  Occasionally he could hear the sounds of traffic from the surrounding roads, but it was light and the roads themselves were out of his sight.

Greg tried to kayak all year round, but there was something special about late June.  He could be on the water by 5:30 and never see another person on his round trip to the Ocean.  It was the greatest time to just bask in nature at her best.

A flash of movement caught his eye, but by the time he looked, there was nothing except the ripples on the water.  Obviously something big had entered the river, but it didn’t make a sound, just pushed the water out of its way.  As the first of the ripples hit the kayak, ripples big enough to bob the little boat up and down, Greg wondered what it could have been.  There wasn’t anything very large that he could think of that lived this far north.  Well, a bear, perhaps, but he would have seen that.

The ripples had dissipated and he was about ready to start moving again.  He did regret he didn’t see whatever went into the water, but he still felt lucky to be out when no one else was around.

He took one last look around, but ended it with a scream. Continue reading

Ruins

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot

“I love ruins!”

“I know.  I think we spent a century in the Roman Forum one afternoon.”

“Come on, you have to admit there’s something romantic about them.”

“We don’t spend time looking at corpses of people, so why buildings?  I like structures that are still in use.”

“Who wanted to spend all afternoon with the mummies at the museum?”

“That’s different!”

“Just think, people lived their lives here.  You can close your eyes and almost imagine it.”

“Brrr, I can.  Such a barbaric time!”

“Yep, which is why I love these early 21st century ruins the best of all.”

— — — Continue reading

Away from it All

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PHOTO PROMPT© Jan Wayne Fields

I left the campsite and headed in what I thought of as “East”.  It didn’t make any difference what I called it.  I might as well have named the direction “Blue” or “Martha”.

All I could see was nothing.  It wasn’t featureless, it just “wasn’t”.   My feet were stopped by what I supposed was the ground, but there was nothing visual to give any indication that anything was there.

After a few minutes, I saw a glow.  I rushed towards it and found myself back at the campsite.  Again.

Why did I ever wish to get away from it all?

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Research Journal, Last Page

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PHOTO PROMPT© CEAyr

Aug 5 – Doing field test we have determined that the specimen is not terrestrial in origin.  It does not belong to any class of Meteorite that we have studied.  I believe it is not of our solar system.

Aug 6 – Very complex molecules have been discovered on the specimen.

Aug 7 – Dr. Chen claims there is an alien life form present.

Aug 8 – Dr. Chen and 3 grad students missing.

Aug 11 – Chen was right.  I am alone.

Aug 13 – Dr. C. and the others returned.  No ideas.

Aug 14 – The planet’s dominant lifeform has been studied.  Assimilation has begun.

— — — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © CEAyr.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

Fresh Flowers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Abby asked.

“Your mother put fresh flowers on the table every morning for 60 years.”

“This is for the best.  We have plenty of room.  No worries.”

“I know.  This house is just so full of her.  I can imagine her going to the garden and selecting exactly the right flowers for the day’s mood.”

“The truck will be here in a second.”

“I feel like I’m leaving her.  And part of me with her.”

“I know.”

Abby stopped and stared.  Nobody had been in or out, yet a vase of fresh flowers graced the kitchen table.

— — — — Continue reading