Shutters down, windows boarded up, phone disconnected.
Four months since the lockdown began, enough food and toilet paper for another year.
Tap, tap, tap. What is it? She won’t risk finding out.
Until then, she will stay in the basement.
Agnes knocked on the door again.
‘Let’s go,’ said Archie.
‘It’s been two weeks, she could be lying dead in there.’
Not the worst outcome, thought Archie, remembering the endless gossiping whenever Agnes and Sylvia got together.
‘She probably went on holiday as soon as the lockdown was lifted, you know what she’s like.’
Agnes tried to peer in a covered window, ‘Alright, we’ll try again next week.’
Copyright Douglas M. McIlroy
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on…
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