Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful, if somewhat somnolent, Rochelle, the undisputed master of what I call Sound Bite Fiction.
She sets the weekly challenge, and the standard.
Today’s rather belated prompt (okay, that is my last one!), an intriguing shot courtesy of Peter Abbey, left me perplexed.
I was unsure what I was looking at.
Then I decided it was irrelevant, and wrote this story.
You can, if you are warped enough, read it as a sequel to last week’s story, The Bomb.
The idea, as always, is to write a story of around 100 words based on the picture, below.
Click here to hear me read my 1-minute story:
I stare hopelessly through the wire mesh.
We are up to our knees in mud, the rainfall relentless.
Our accommodation consists of a few ragged tents.
They protect us from neither wet nor cold.
Enemy soldiers in waterproof huts laugh at us from behind machine guns.
It seems the war is lost, our country occupied.
Escape looks impossible.
Several courageous if rash souls have already died trying.
Even I am struggling to come up with a plan that is not suicidal.
Cheer up, says Phil, things could be worse.
How, exactly, I ask.
That bomb could have exploded.