Refuge

photo credit Dale Rogerson

Gretchen kept the steeple in view. Surely, a place that had a steeple with a cross was a place where she could find refuge and help.

Footsore, dirty, hungry, tired to the bone, she trudged until she saw a parking lot. No cars. The sign in front of the building was a real estate “For Sale” sign that had been covered with a SOLD! banner.

Underneath, she read, “New Home of Community Theatre, Open in Summer of 2022!”

She crumpled, fading as she hit the ground. Her body was a grisly welcome for the renovation crew.

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Fear

PHOTO PROMPT© Liz Young

Heights and falling. Two great phobias, and they tend to come as a packaged set.

Cathy avoided elevators, especially the popular new ones that were built into the outer wall of very tall buildings. Some people raved over the view, exclaiming at how beautiful and exciting it was.

One time, she couldn’t avoid it. She trembled the moment the doors slid closed, sweating and cold, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut. The man beside her laughed at first, not realizing she wasn’t faking. Her terror was real. He whispered, “We can take the stairs when we leave.”

Did That Just Happen?

PHOTO PROMPT © Krista Strutz

The majestic bird, comfortable in his own kingdom, eyed the human intruder. The human stared back, too surprised to blink. Neither of them moved a hair or a feather. Utter stillness prevailed. Not a fish jumped, not a bear moved. Even the mosquitoes stopped whining.

The eagle opened his beak and let out a terrifying scream as he opened his wings, stretching them wide, turning until he picked up a breeze. He flapped once and was off, soaring quickly to the heights.

The human shook himself and dipped his paddle, wondering, “Did that just happen?”

High Summer

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“Ayup. Been a dickens of a summer, ain’t it?” Karl spit a stream of brown tobacco juice to the ground.

“Oh, you betcha. Hot, humid, and all this Covid crud. We thought it’d be all done by now.”

“Flatten the curve, yeah? “

“Phshaw! Such nonsense!”

The two old farmers stood quiet, leaning on the fence rail, watching the tractor maneuver the loaded hay wagon.

“Well. Keep good, yeah? Gotta go help. Horses gotta eat.”

“Ayup. Keep good. See ya!”