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 week’s fascinating photo makes me think of springtime in Scotland, April showers, paddling feet in fresh water streams.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and to see what others have written.
The drainage pipes are at an awkward height.
And no water comes through them.
My friend is concerned that her garden wall is in danger of collapse.
Because her house is on the hillside, the lane is maybe eight feet below the level of the garden.
The outlets, about four feet above ground level, are designed to allow the water that drains through the earth to exit into the channel that runs along the side of the narrow alley.
I decide to check if they are clogged.
I arm myself with a hammer and a long steel rod from her cluttered garage.
I thrust the rod into the first opening, find it blocked.
I prod a bit, do not understand what I feel.
Whatever it is yields a little, but no more than a couple of inches.
I bend, peer in.
A rat hurtles out, attaches itself to my left eyelid.
I crash backwards onto the ground as hordes of them pour from the hole, perhaps scenting blood.
I am in trouble here.