Mission: Stealth

Image result for abandoned universities

Back inside the halls of long abandoned Praline, the bounty hunt for Dmitri Ivanova continued. It was going well into midnight and tensions were high for his capture.

“Where are you Ivanova?” said Looper in a hushed tone, walking through an aisle of the school’s abandoned library. His flashlight beam hovered over some dusty books on a middle shelf, various titles on the spines becoming clear. Ivanova, the ruthless tyrant and murderer from Russia, could jump out at any moment and start shooting at the tall beared assassin.

“Come out,” Looper said, the old floorboards creaking under his heavy boots. Most of the windows of this abandoned library were boarded up except for two that had been shattered, letting in streams of moonlight that illuminated the aisle Looper was stealthily walking down. The sound of an old clock that was miraculously still ticking after all these years was the only other sound besides Looper’s shuffles.

They say Looper’s name comes from the way he goes around in circles on subjects,

Flash Fiction Challenge: December 15

In 99 words (no more, no less) explore the importance of a name within a story. It can be naming an experience, introducing an extraordinary name, or clarifying a name (who can forget Who’s on First). Go where the prompt leads.

 

Advertisements

Black & White: Abandoned/Alone

I returned to the lonely grave today to get this secular shot…

The power grid in the middle of a vast field is so alone because no one would dare go near it…

This harvested farmland will see no signs of life until next October, when the crops shoot up again…

Alone on a country road…

This lake I visited in the summer of 2013 was very still and quiet. Quite a great place to be alone.

may7bw2


Cee’s Black and White Photo Challenge: Abandoned or Alone

Abandoned

To access the state of this room
I had to sit in a while
And think how it came to be
How it reached it’s chaotic ways
How it was abandoned by me

The troops came marching in
Everything was horrid
Had to be disbanded
No more place for snoring

The need to stay here waned
The desk became cluttered
Clothes scattered everywhere
Steps became stuttered

This of long time ago
When so much talk was about
TV watching, bed gazing
And maybe thoughts of getting out

Piled higher than Mount Everest
Chairs littered with books
Now posters hang on the walls
Still giving me funny looks

Like a perpetual museum
Everything collecting dust
Guitar still sits in the closet
No string plucked in months

Bed frame upturned, forever unslept in
Taped up walls, always decrepit

Music passes through my ears
Taking in the sights and sounds
I am the champion
Of this old playground

The one that started everything
Raised my spirits and gave me pain
Round and round I go
Cycling in and out this plane

Things keep changing, changing
Time keeps moving, moving
If beige walls could speak
They’d tell me of all the memories rooming

Lone shoe
Unworn in years
Now I clear my slate
And cast away my fears

Finally basking in my finest hour
My little square sanctuary
Where I can think about tomorrow

This room is like a jungle
So much strewn about
A forgotten business idea
Now just cards of thought

Cedar poster on the wall
Christmas stockings still hang about
Until when needed
They never shout

This room was abandoned 
But now it is filled 
Seeing my love again 
Thawing out the chilled

But it might not last long
For there is little here to see
The only thing keeping it afloat
Is the creative mind of me


What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.