Today is Wednesday, I’m getting in quickly while Mrs T catches up on some appalling medical drama; close ups of chest cavities and cries of, “He’s Tachycardic!” are way beyond my interest and pay scale and for this reason I choose to blog!
This club is a ship of non-fools navigating the choppy waters of the blogisphere, writing a story with beginning, middle and end of no more than 100 words prompted by the picture below. So for my millions of faithful disciples, now you understand what this FF is all about, don’t think i’ve explained it before!
Rochelle you wonderful wonder woman, well done for keeping us all in check and not misbehaving, at least on this page! And J. Hardy Carroll for the photo, immediately it brought to mind incarceration of the worst kind. So lets see what comes up, thinking cap on, and…
On My Marks…
Pok-Fu-Lam was on fire; the night sky refracted the flames and echoed the explosions of jettisoned Molotov Cocktails crashing into the reversing armoured vehicle.
They looked at each other; black clothes and face masks covering their smoke begrimed visages, eyes flashing hastily. The truck monotonously rattled through the night, and into the day flashes of light through bullet holes in the roof. No stops, urine puddling on the floor.
Some whispered rumours of their destination; cries of panic silenced by sharp crashes of gun-barrel on metal in front.
Just some disappearing students, just some other meaningless statistics.
OK no nursery rhymes today, no bastardised fairy tales. A serious piece inspired (is that the correct word?) by events seen on the telly happening right now in Hong Kong, and the Police Brutality seen. So it’s 100 words on the nose, and a departure for me, with no jokes.