This piece was written for the 10 April Flash!Friday competition. The prompts were “spy” and the photo. In this one I also experimented a bit with formatting.
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Twisted Time
I don’t know where I am. The place looks familiar in a time-twisted sort of way. The shop over there should be the bakery. The sweet shop across from me. But they’re gone, suddenly, disappeared overnight. Someone came to change everything.
“Crazy crone,” someone mutters as they walk past.
Why is the sweet shop selling gambling tickets?
I want to play, but I feel drained. My mind feels strange. Someone changed everything.
Something clicks.
I wonder why I’m sitting on the cobbles. I should be at home where it’s warm. In my hand is a piece of chalk. Next to me, in a cup, more pieces. There’s a picture on the cobbles of a house with a tree and a family. It looks like it was drawn by a child, but I don’t see any children close by.
My fingers are covered in coloured chalk dust.
What on Earth am I doing here?
I don’t know where I am. The sweet shop is gone, but I have chalk to draw with. None of the other kids want to play with me.
A beautiful lady in a silver dress comes to sit next to me.
Something clicks.
“Time,” I ask. “What have you done to me?”
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