Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! Hosted by the one and only Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, people from all over the world try at writing a three-part short story for a picture prompt by week’s end. A rather short story— no more than a hundred words. This week’s image is from Sandra, over at castelsarrasin.
I quickly noticed the pattern on the roof in the distance. Unusual… for America. And… I couldn’t think of a story to fit that in. So, there’s this…
I can’t explain it.
All morning operated like the normal, hot day it was: the bicyclists were out; the marketplace hummed. I figured I was the only Westerner walking the streets like a character out of a bad movie. I underestimated the travel costs.
Then it happened. People began to disappear around the corner. I walked faster. Suddenly, fear and panic hit me. Stone colors alternated underneath me as I ran. I reached the intersection. Empty, silent. Then something… someone touched my collar. Panting, survival skills kicked in. I spun around. No one.
I blinked. Everything was normal again.
Click here to see what others have written for the prompt, or add your own.
Visit Addicted to Purple for Rochelle’s Fictioneers page, stories, character studies and… well, artwork in general. You can follow Purple for the prompt each Wednesday.