photo by Arnaud Mesureur via Unsplash
‘Keep under the floodlights,’ said Mumma. ‘It’ll be warmer under there.’
So that’s where we stood, Polly, Mumma and me – me sandwiched between them, glimpsing the flood of frightened, muddy people. Everybody seemed to be hurt – nobody was bandaged or cleaned.
I hid behind Polly as the fighting broke out around us. Food. It was over food a lady said. I think that’s what she said – she was crying.
Then the floodlights guttered, spat. Went out.
Written for Sonya at Only 100 Word’s Three Line Tales. See the pic and write a tale. See here to join in.
Word Shamble 
Sounds like the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Grim little gem, beautifully told as always, Lynn!
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Ah, interesting you should say that as that’s exactly what I had in mind when I wrote it! Glad it came across clearly. Thanks so much Penny
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That’s what I was thinking too. Such a horrible situation for the people who were stuck there.
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Nightmarish – how vulnerable some people must have been, in that big stadium with some very dangerous people and little law and order. A microcosm of how society can break down.
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Shivery close to the bone for many people.
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It’s a terrifying scenario, that sense of helplessness, of being trapped somewhere, at the mercy of other, stronger people. Horrific. Thanks Jane
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🙂
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Oh this is so real. Very beautifully written. And what a take on the prompt! Very impressive.
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Ah, thank you so much 🙂
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