(Photo Credit: Fandango)
The Miami-Dade County Fire Department Museum’s most sought after and talked about exhibit was unimaginatively titled “Homecoming.” This prosaic depiction was more an anachronism than reality.
It was Joanne who first alerted the fire department. Hurtling away in her station wagon with eight-year-old Ashita next to her – and the most vital accumulations of life that an estate car could accommodate – at the back, both mother and daughter were fervently trying to outrun the approaching storm.
The old couple were seated next to one another. Armed with identical copies of Ryszard Kapuscinski’s “Travels with Herodotus”, they were the epitome of serenity and serendipity. Slamming the brakes, Joanne brought the car to a screeching halt as Ashita, winding down the window, beseeched the couple to get into the car. “A storm is going to lash the County. Please come with us.”
“But this is our home” replied the old lady with a beatific smile that adorned her face. No amount of coercion or cajoling could be transformed into conviction.
The firemen could just see the contours of arthritic fingers jutting out from underneath a collapsed tree. Both the killer and the killed were part of a fate that was twisted.
(Word Count: 200)
Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details, visit HERE.
To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE
3 comments
They seemed willing to except their fate, One hopes that it was quick.
Many refuse to leave for just that reason. Maybe re-building is just too painful.
Nice story. At certain point in life it is difficult to leave a place where one has spent most of his life.