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The Unknown

Photo copyright: Ted Strutz
Photo copyright: Ted Strutz

You know that feeling when you are out late at night, and you know that something is getting too close to you. Well I was feeling like that. There was a crunch reminiscent of thin ice being broken and faint sounds like laboured breathing. But it was so dark that I could not see more than a foot in front of myself. So I allow my feet to keep moving me homeward. Then the fine hairs on my neck are raised when I feel warmth, where no heat had a right to exist. I ‘will’ return in the morning with a camera.

Footnotes:
My post this week is from My Memoirs, I was twelve years old.
This week I may struggle to comment, but I ‘will’ read all the flash fiction stories that are posted on the Friday Fictioneers site this week.

barbers
Mike prior to his visit to the barbers.
This Post Has 28 Comments
    1. My footnotes should have mentioned that this posts genre was my memoirs. I was about twelve years old. When I returned to the scene the next day, I found a great lumbering steam roller simmering quietly.

    1. My footnotes should have mentioned that this posts genre was my memoirs. I was about twelve years old. When I returned to the scene the next day, I found a great lumbering steam roller simmering quietly.

  1. Capturing that moment in words is so difficult, isn’t it, that’s why we sometimes need pictures, a picture is worth a thousand words, after all. Or is it ten thousand words?!

    A few tiny typos in here, Michael which I can point out if necessary.

    Sorry you struggle to comment on the flash fiction you read. Hope the authors’ creative fiction works on you emotionally and intellectually and in any way they would wish and not be aware of wishing.

    1. Kevin… My footnote should have mentioned that this posts ‘genre’ was ‘my memoirs’. I was twelve years old. When I returned to the scene the next day, I found a great lumbering steam roller simmering quietly.
      My inability to comment should only be short lived, as it is more a state of mind that occasionally I find myself in. When in that mood I find that my failings with grammar increase, so any pointers about typos are welcome.

      1. Hey, Michael no failing just finger hiccups- the fact you post your story and allow certain people’s buffeting-like comments on to your blog demonstrates a certain kind of resilience. I hope my comments help at least they don’t hinder and make you feel bad. Belittling people is a nasty business but so easy … if we let it.

  2. That’s the stuff that memories are made of. At least you got to see the reasons for your wild imaginings. That’s an important lesson in life, finding out the facts behind the fears.

  3. Wow! That was some experience. Thank you for the notes that tell us the heat you felt was real, otherwise I’d have put it down to imagination in the dark. Brave you, going back next door to see what it was!

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