Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
This one, I confess, leaves me confused.
Yes, okay, but more so than usual.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.
At first it is just Carol and I.
We are far along the beach, past the Broken Steps, when we see it.
It is small, about the size of a bauble from a Christmas tree, and shiny.
No, it is glowing, with an almost painful intensity.
She goes to lift it, pulls back in surprise.
What, I ask her, bending, reaching.
I feel the heat before I can touch it.
At this time of year the beach is deserted, but I don’t like to leave it lying there.
I rummage, salvage crumpled tinfoil from a forgotten seaside supper.
I scoop it into my rucksack, find it incredibly heavy.
We go to the little café in the square, show it off.
My friend Rafa points to the TV.
We see similar objects, discovered all over the world.
It seems that there are dozens, maybe hundreds, of them.
No one has as yet determined what they are, or where they come from.
We are told to call a special number.
I do, and I am told to wait, leave it untouched.
So we all sit around, speculating.
It starts to vibrate, gently.
A small crack appears.
And unspeakable evil emerges.