There was a rumor that one town survived the collapse and continued on as if nothing happened.  After Mark was murdered for a 15-year-old can of green beans, I went in search of the modern-day Eldorado.

I kept my treasure close, a real-life paper map, printed a decade before the collapse.

There was a red “X” on one town.

I’d find it.

Three months, at the map’s “X”, I saw a glow on the horizon.  That was it!  I hadn’t seen such a glow since the collapse.

The next day I found the recently burned-out husk of my dream Eldorado.

***

word count = 100

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

Just two blocks from the theater district and the world had changed.

The city had always frightened Kim.  She would never think of straying beyond her comfort zone, but here she was.

Robert had dropped her for the matinée in front of the Wang, not the Colonial. She had never walked there, but was it really that hard?

“Ma’am, wait, hold on…”

Kim barged forward to escape the dark face calling to her.

She didn’t see it until too late.

Now when she visits the city, Kim makes sure she spends time in “her neighborhood” with the “world’s friendliest people”.

***

I drew a blank at first, but the photo reminded me of a section of Boston close to the theater district. It is an area that someone from a rich suburb who never visits the city might find scary, though it isn’t at all, and few spots int he city are scary during the day… So, a little story about the breaking of unfair biases…

***

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.

It all stopped at the door.

The door was spotless and gleaming.  The little alcove between the door and the iron gate was filled with dust and debris.  The gate had never opened in Robbie’s memory, but every so often a potted plant would appear, as if to shout that there was life beyond that door, and just as suddenly it would disappear.

Robbie often wondered what lay beyond that door.  In his imagination he saw a beautiful princess awaiting rescue.

With a sigh he turned back to that wasteland that once was a city, years before he was born.

***

word count = 100

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