“This will do, it’s not home but it’s got a roof.”
“How do we get in?”
Jimmy knew the answer.
He could climb.
He could fight the grease and rats of ventilation shafts.
He could pick the locks.
She just had to tell him.
Emily hugged her little brother.
“Please Jimmy, I can help you up on the roof … ”
“No need… I’ll climb myself.”
Anything is better than home.
Anywhere their father wasn’t.
Any place where his cold fingers couldn’t probe.
She watched him scale the fence and disappear into the building when a truck pulled up behind her.
What happens with dilapidated buildings? Who are the squatters? That what what I wonder when I saw the picture. For once I left you with a cliff-hanger. What did really happen afterwards.
Friday Fictioneers is a blogging community under firm leadership of slumlord Donna Rochelle. Visit her page and read about the price of fluorescent light. If you want to contribute your own story in 100 words go to her page also or click the froggy below.
September 27, 2017