Friday Fictioneers – Summer of ’69

ff031214It was mid-July – it should’ve been 80 outside, instead it felt more like 50. Glistening Icicles hung from the twisted branches of Mr Ebdon’s Apple Blossom tree. Sun-beaten kids used to dusty, humid summers pelted each other with powdery, white snowballs.

The crackling transistor in the kitchen announced the main road to Franksville was now blocked: the whole midwest had been thrown back into winter.

As the day darkened the flakes continued to fall – heavier with each fresh, frozen flurry. Nobody seemed that worried, most just fooled around. But I was worried: this meant something, and I was sure it weren’t something good.

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.


13 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – Summer of ’69

  1. Nan Falkner

    Dear Paul, Whoa! What happened to summer? Something giant must have happened to make the weather so unstable. I would start collecting water, bleach, freeze-dried food and hunkering down for the disturbing things to come. Wow – this is doomsday beginning which is so scary. I think I’ll build an underground house and stay put for awhile. Good and interesting. Nan 🙂

  2. storydivamg

    Snow in the summer is bad enough. Snow at 50 degrees Fahrenheit–well, that’s quite another catastrophe. I’d say your narrator has reason to be concerned.


  3. Margaret

    He’s right to be worried. What a tragedy he’s the only one who seems to realise something’s wrong. This is so realistic – heads in the sand. Wonderfully told story.


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