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The Gully

The weed choked stairs led down into a gully, the banks of which were built up with rough ironstone walls, between which the rust coloured river Irwell flowed. Broken slabs of ironstone littered the floor of the river. Jack hurried down the steps and waded into the ice cold water, within seconds he had grabbed the floundering child. Their only hope now was the rickety wooden rungs that had once been used by an engineer from the mill to operate a ratchet handle to let water into the mill leat. As he placed the child’s hands on a rung Jack’s feet were swept from under him.

I have a printed copy of this

Flash fiction in response to a Friday Fictioneers photograph [15-01-2016] showing neglected steps. Photo credit Amy Reese.  

This Post Has 4 Comments
    1. Dear Michael,

      I hope you’ve gotten my email. If not I will tell you that I nearly deleted your link because it took me to your home page which showed no indication of there being a Friday Fictioneers story. This makes the reader work too hard to find the actual story. The URL you link should be specifically for your story.

      To put the Photo prompt into your post isn’t too difficult. Go to my page and simply right click on the photo. This should give you a drop down menu with one of the options being ‘save image.’ Save it to your computer then upload it to your blog. I hope this helps.

      My email address is runtshell@gmail.com. Let me know how I assist you further. .

      Shalom,

      Rochelle

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