PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Consciousness slowly crept into the darkness.  Echoes of last night drifted through, the screams, the explosions.  As the present crept in, it was all replaced by a murmur.

My last memories were of the crowd of the market quickly thinning, though with some left behind, mangled, twisted on the ground.  Now the market was full again with a river of humanity.

It only took a moment to see that they were all facing the same direction, all flowing past.  There was no panic, no noise.

I sat up, surprised at the calm and quiet.

And then I noticed the tears.


word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ Roger Bultot. If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

46 thoughts on “Flow

    1. trentpmcd Post author

      It is possible the narrator is passing from this life to another, but my thoughts were more that people are trying to escape a city under siege, refugees quietly following each other, slightly shell shocked, yet aware enough to shed a tear or two on their way out…



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