Stephen inhaled. Drawing every whim of will within, he lifted his shoulders before relasing control to the window at his left. His breath now aiding his mind in clouding the ruins someone once called home.
Opening the car door, the piercing cold punished every step toward the crumbling shack.
“What the hell happened here?” he thought.
All he could recall now was supper with dad one night before tale light reflections cut through the windows at dawn, his mother at the wheel.
“Did that really happen?”
But he couldn’t make his peace. Not with this thieving cold or stranger’s memory.
These 100 words were inspired by
’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt “cold like a strangers memories.” Let me know what you think and take on the prompt yourself!
Chilling! No pun intended 😬