A war, incorporating genocide and war crimes, with the real potential to bring out the chemical weapons, what the hell is this guy on? Thank goodness there is a place so light and airy where we can air our minds and let the prose flow, no matter what irt may bring forth, and all thanks to Rochelle for keeping it going and for her twin sister Rochelle for supplying this weeks photo prompt. Keep on keeping on girls!
So 100 words with a beginning, a middle and an end, based on the photo…
On My Marks…
Mariupol; it was cooler in the winter; 40’c was just about bearable but 65’c? That’s when most folk retreated underground for the summer aside from the displaced and the futile scavengers.
Like Knossos, long ago, the queue snaked out past the ticket kiosk and into the mangroves, which had existed as long as anyone could remember, the collective amnesia of the 40’s had skewed things to a certain extent.
Booted, in the warm salty soup, the voice of a tour guide heard above the splitting of the Azov waves through the roots of the mangroves;
“…this is what is left of Havanna Street”
Here we go, a depressing tale set in the none too distant future, happy Wednesday everyone, 100 words too, on the button.