Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful Rochelle, the undisputed master of what I call Sound Bite Fiction.
She sets the weekly challenge, and the standard.
Today’s photo is another which gives us many options.
The idea, as always, is to write a story of around 100 words based on the picture, below.
Given my ongoing problem with ‘un nerf coincé’, a pinched nerve which renders my right (writing) arm almost useless, I apologise in advance for my limited responses again this week.
Derelict buildings have their own personalities, I think.
Well, maybe personality is not the right word, perhaps I mean characteristics, smell, atmosphere.
And they have their own ghosts, of course.
Back then, when we were boys, the old warehouse was our gang hut.
It was our secret, between the three of us.
Noddy was the leader, Jimmy always backed him.
Until the mutiny.
Their disappearance caused an uproar at the time.
Their parents knew they often went down by the river.
They dredged it for days.
They never knew about the warehouse.
Derelict buildings have their own ghosts, I know.