Memories on Display

Warm, musty air envelopes me, leaving the blustery wind behind. Frozen hands, face stinging, my eyes adjust to the darker space. Objects start making appearances, like actors on stage, their stories as yet untold. I lose myself, and any sense of time, as I move through their memories.

Ghosts of children whisper from above. Stories of heartache, love, labour. Children taken, transported. For their own good, some say. Missing home, they work, pray.

Soft breathes whirl, “Don’t forget us.” Taken by force. Torn from loving arms, to fill an empty land. Sent over seas. Home never forgot. Hearts never healed.

 

The Friday Fictioneers challenge is to write a story of no more than 100 words from a photo prompt, from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

For other stories from this photo:  An InLinkz Link-up

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Refugee

Screeching followed as I raced through the countryside, north. I’d heard about a man who’d help, for a cost. Rounded into the murky hub of an old boat, days huddled in cramped, stinking, silence. Waves crashed, straining its joints to the breaking point. Sirens wailed, men with guns stormed down. Terrified, we obeyed; we’d seen what authority could do. They told us we would not reach the mainland as promised. They shipped us to an island camp for processing. Here we sit in barbed wire, on dirt floors, indefinitely waiting. I didn’t know this was what safety would look like.

The Friday Fictioneers challenge is to write a story of no more than 100 words from a photo prompt, from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.

PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

For other stories from this photo, click on the frog.