For some reason, this week’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers generated a dark feeling for me. Here’s where it took me.
Photo Prompt: Jellico’s Stationhouse
The boy crawled out of the storm cellar and scrambled across the rubble. The full moon deepened the shadows, making threatening monsters out of empty eyed wall sections and free standing chimneys. The air still reeked of burning flesh.
He knew exactly where he was going. He just needed a method of transportation to get there. Uncle’s bicycle was in the barn that the enemy soldiers had left empty but intact.
As he mounted the bike, he glanced toward the remains of his home. There’d be time to mourn later, when the others had been warned.
Here’s the link to see how others viewed it.
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