Beauty of Baltimore
Luz last night the hellioned beast raised its ugly head in NewCago.
The gangs have unleashed their secret weapon.
They circled the opportunity like a predator for months
Fires are burning all over NewCago and there are just too few good people to put them out.
Those who had a job have one no longer.
Most have lost their meager possessions.
Young men are empowered with hatred.
The police are behind their iron clad doors.
Leaders had their speeches prepared in advance.
Hearts have gone AWOL.
…and if I don’t find a way to extinguish these flames, NewCago will be nothing but ashes.
“Life in NewCago” is a fictional series. The protagonist, Sam, is trying to restore a city run by gangsters and most of the people helping Sam are dead. There’s not much a single individual can do to put out the flames even if he can’t be killed.
Baltimore, a city that I love dearly, is in a shambles today. Fortunately, there are community heroes who are trying to calm the heat. May those who care about their city prevail.
This is a rather sobering post for the letter X. I want to thank the A to Z Challenge coordinators for this month of blogging.
Photography: Baltimore by L. Moon
Some bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge:
It had been unseasonably wet in the state where it “never rains.”
We had run out of chips so I did a “quick run” to the store. I felt a rumble, threw the car into park and jumped out. Instinctively I knew that I had to get out from under trees and power lines. “Earthquake” I screamed at some joggers. I stood watching the massive oak upended.
The landscaper had a smirk on his face. For years he had reported that the celebrated, oldest oak needed to be cut down. The celebration was over; the paying of bills in full swing…
Theme of this post: Fictionalized non-fiction
Rochelle has us in the trees this week at Friday Fictioneers. Check out the other stories here.
The scalpel is a symbol of constructive criticism – cut away
Enjoy Pen of the Damned today as we have a treat for you. Each of us has written a flash fiction (100 words) based on the picture prompt (above). The words I have placed below is dark compilation. Come over to the Pen and feast in our dark banquet hall.
The weeping was for all who, on small feet, come, hands overflowing with offerings; the dead screaming in their endless burn. They prowl the shadows, “You cannot flee, ” says a voice that is not his own. Husks of comforting strangers fill my head with their thoughts.
“I always laugh last.”
~ and so they are all damned
Small Sacrifices ~ Nina D’Arcangela
Damnation ~Dan Dillard
The Ruin of Man ~ Tyr Kieran
Palace ~ Joseph A Pinto
The Lost Message ~ Leslie Moon
Ghoul’s Last Laugh ~ Blaze McRob
THE OTHER PLACE ~ Thomas Brown
Dementia ~ Daemonwulf
Photograph: “Monument” © Copyright Dark Angel Photography.
A long, long time ago…
Words meant something
promises meant more
you’d turn the sprinkler on and there was an instant neighborhood party
add hand churned ice cream and the old people joined in
but that was a long, long time ago
now we rush around to the loud din of the money factor
churning out paper money faster than we can replace it
and no one from the neighborhood joins in because
water is more valuable than money
the ice cream is synthetic
and the man who delivers ice cream
knows more about the deal with Meth
it doesn’t matter the ice cream is synthetic
as are the promises that important men make
in the shadow of those from
a long, long time ago…
This photograph is attributed under Creative Commons Legal code as being the work of Adam Lederer
Please enjoy other work by Adam Lederer
“That bicycle has been waiting for its owner for 50 years…”
“…That’s what a local told me.”
“Truth be told. That mangled piece of metal belonged to Sid from when he was a boy.”
“They looked for his body for months…. ”
“His ghost rides the bike through town on moonless nights.” A tourist stated. “We booked a room three extra nights – in case he rides.”
“I like to sniff out a good story,” the journalist told the shopkeeper.
“I won’t let the reporter know I concocted the ghost story…”
“It’s been good for business.” The city council members shook their heads.
Take Two: I wanted there to be more mystery so this is ending #2:
“I promise I won’t tell my white lie to that nosy guy writing the story.”
“It’s been good for business though.” The city council members shook their heads.
Okay would love your feedback. Take One or Take Two???
The velocipede is a photo prompt (provided by anelephant can’t) for this week’s Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Join the other flash fictioneers in constructing a fictional story in 100 words.
As I was hanging on the endless ladder, I heard a sound
“Sam you have had some interesting things cross your path but a goat?”
Somehow it gave me the incentive to climb faster.
There it was like a shoebox diorama of a distant past: a woman reading a book, a kid trotting about an untended grave site, peaceful death.
In angst I sighed. “The people in NewCago have sacrificed so much for the sake of power and a few coin.”
There was no longer peace in Newcago streets even death was noisy as the ghostly victims could tell you.
Thanks to Rochelle our Fictioneer extraordinaire for the weekly prompts and for Randy Maize and the photo prompt for this week.
This is my final Newcago episode for Friday Fictioneers. I have decided to create a weekly series that will pull some of the elements from these stories and expand on them.
Go to page 2 to read last week’s Newcago serial and access the entire series