Thursday, 16 August 2012

Flood

I returned to the village. The water had subsided. Everything was gone. The people, the livestock, the houses; all gone.
I knew what was going to happen. I knew that the skies were going to open. I knew that the land would be inundated. But when I tried to tell them, they drove me away. Called me a heretic, a madman, a prophet of doom.
I had come to save them. I had come to warn them, but they didn’t want to hear. They couldn’t listen. And in the end they made me go.
Now this is the only sign.
Photo by Lura Helms
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Created for friday fictioneers. 100 words based on this picture:

8 comments:

  1. Ah, Casandras are so disbelieved! Nicely described desperation to convey a need for action, while all hide their heads and pretend everything is fine.
    cheers,
    Lorelei
    http://westcoastwriters.blogspot.com/2012/08/fridayfictioneers-fork.html

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  2. Nicely done, a good sense of desolation and regret here.

    In that second paragraph I'd have used 'I'd known' instead of 'I knew'. I thought the story was going forward at that point instead of reflecting on past events.

    Well done.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks. For the feedback.

      Interesting. I see your point, but now I'm confused About whether the tenses are consistent.

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  3. Great way of explaining the skull in the tree and one I didn't expect.

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  4. Nicely written, if only they had listened. mine is here
    http://boomiebol.wordpress.com/2012/08/16/chidinma-friday-fictioneers-817/

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  5. excellent prose -- very much enjoyed it

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  6. Oh how sad and desolate. Mine is here and linked: http://readinpleasure.wordpress.com/2012/08/17/fridayfictioneers-the-withered-flower/

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  7. Nice! This has an almost mythological feel to it, with the right sad undertone. Well done

    Brian (http://pinionpost.com/2012/08/17/the-hatchery/

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