Well, what would you do, confronted by a photo of a dismembered mannequin and some graffiti? You’d write a hundred word story about it, of course.
You wouldn’t? Well, that’s what the Friday Fictioneers do. Try it – you’ll like it!
November’s a gray month, so dark so early. Take the wrong shortcut, and you might run into anything. Something rustled behind him. Leaves, he told himself. But the leaves were gone for the winter. Only a mugger, he told himself with a sour smile.
It wasn’t like rustling, he decided. Or footsteps. Something scraping along the sidewalk.
“Help me.” A voice at waist level behind him. A child in trouble? He paused, turned.
The statue approached, swiveling stiffly from side to side. Its torso was missing, and its head wobbled atop its hips. The lips moved. He yelled and ran.
The head sighed. “This neighborhood. Everybody goes to pieces.”
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Please comment and let me know what you think of this story! And as usual, thanks to our fearless leader and cat-herder, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.