On the verge…

Storm clouds canal boats purple
photo by Federico Beccari via Unsplash

They were surrounded on all sides – the waters were rising, the air was polluted, and mutant virus were at their door.

The men in charge were at a stalemate – was it happening? was it their problem? were the scientists being too dramatic?

Where does a refuge go if the moon is not colonized and there is no safe place upon Earth?


Written in response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt #294

Dromedarian Legends

photo by Pradeep Gopal via Unsplash

What legends do your ancestors tell?

They who knew the builders well

The only to survive the pharaoh’s fell


?

Written in response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales 293 photo prompt.

If animals could tell their legends, we could truly rewrite history. Imagine if a cockroach story-teller emerged…

If the world were all me

“If there were a zillion of me, what a perfect world it would be,

No opposing opinions, no one who will disagree.”

.

“Do you see no problem in that, like a lack of variety?

Or a world drowning under a deluge of pompous vanity?”

.

“Is the world going to drown? Go under the sea?

Bit of a problem I suppose, if there is no one else around to take the blame but me!”

.

photo by Keith Champaco via Unsplash

Written in response to Week 287 of Three Line Tales.

The Cottage

photo by Grace Wang via Unsplash

The warm lights beckoned like a beacon of hope – of a place to rest, perhaps a meal, hopefully a phone…

The inviting aroma of coffee and freshly baked cookies didn’t let him wonder about the unusualness of an unlocked door.

Until, suddenly, all the lights went out and a blood-curdling shriek pierced the stillness.

*******

Written in response to The Three Line Tales #285