THE END OF CIVILISATION - a story in 100 words

THE END OF CIVILISATION

It was deadlier than a nuclear blast – an endless tsunami of sound. Those who didn’t die of embolisms jumped into the ocean in suicidal agony.

Animals, unaffected by the sonic bomb, invaded the towns with astonishing speed – pampered pets fell victim to predators or turned feral.

Within months the cities began to disappear beneath foliage. Pollarded trees hid their scars with luxuriant growth, cracking pavements in their search for water. Unchecked plants climbed telephone wires, reaching though open windows. Mould consumed paper, fabric and, eventually, even plastic.

It was the end of civilisation – but not the end of the world.

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 This is a story written in response to the photograph taken by Roger Bultot and posted for Friday Fictioneers on Rochelle's blog at  https://rochellewisoff.com/  If you visit her blog you can follow the links to read how scores of other writers interpreted the image.

After an early burst of spring in the south of England which brought my new garden to life, we have returned to wintry blasts. Unfortunately the grass doesn't know it's supposed to stop growing, and the lawn mower has been out twice already, and the birds are consuming vast quantities of seed and dried mealworms. Only my vegetable seeds and potato sets are sensibly keeping their heads below ground until the weather warms up - which we hope will be in time for Easter.

Meanwhile, if you're stuck indoors, why not read one of my books? While I work on a third book in my Living Rock series, the first two books, A Volcanic Race and Wolf Pack are available on Amazon, along with Helter-Skelter, a stand-alone historical novel.

I would love to have LOTS more readers and, of course, more 5* reviews!

CHRISTMAS & CLASS CONSCIOUS - A 100 word story

We had a lovely Christmas Day - drinks with friends at the local bar followed by dinner with my daughter and son-in-law.

We had a lot to talk about - we're hoping to move back to England next year and they plan to retire early and grow potatoes in Ireland!

We shared the cooking, ate our starters on the terrace and retired there after dinner for more drinks by candlelight. Next year we hope to be drinking our brandies by an open fire.

On Boxing Day we caught up with the rest of the family over thousands of miles thanks to the miracle of Skype, and then we ate a Mexican supper with Venezuelan and Italian friends - a truy international Christmas.

And now life can return to what passes for normal in our neck of the woods. First I must post this week's 100 worder for the Friday Fictioneers - see http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for the link to other writers. Then I shall send off the short story I wrote for a competition over the holiday, and finally return to the rewrite that seems to be taking forever!

If you're still here, thanks for sticking with me, and I wish you a happy and successful 2015.

My story follows this lovely photo taken by a fellow Friday Fictioneer Bjorn Rudberg, and if you'd like Christmas stories, read my post for 30th December - "Stable".

CLASS  CONSCIOUS

The tsunami didn’t care that Felicity was a celebrity and Maria a servant – it swept them both off the terrace. Maria clung to a tree, holding Felicity with her strong old arms, until the next wave dragged them away.

As they stood in line for the golden stairs Felicity said, “You can’t come this way, Maria – use the servants’ entrance.”

In a little cove Maria discovered the worn steps of her childhood and ran lightly up them, straight into her mother’s arms, and at the gates she heard Felicity desperately demanding; “I’m a celebrity – let me in here!”