This is rather late but I could not leave taking part this week. I would like to whole heartedly say thank you to Madison Woods for starting this group. I only started blogging in January, with the intention of developing my creative writing skills. Not only has this community helped me keep on track of writing something each week, but it has been wonderful sharing this with like-minded people who share a passion for flash fiction. This weekly exercise and subsequent feedback has been invaluable. So once again, thank you for making it happen. And thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for taking this on and keeping this weekly creative mission alive.
I have decided to make this part three of my Sirens stories, started here in the Friday Fictioneers community.
If you fancy reading the other two, here they are
Sirens
Sarah dunked the plain biscuit into her bitter coffee and allowed the bottom half go soggy. She had arrived at the bus depot before sun rise, hungry and thirsty. The only other person in the cafe was man wearing a faded tag spelling out ‘Malcolm’. He served her coffee and swept the floors.
For days Jenny had been wandering from one town to another, chasing the ghost of Jenny Blake and the truth she took to her grave.
“Jefferson. 1863.” Jenny said before the answer machine clicked off, running out of tape.
Tony ‘the bus guy’ had helped decode the message, eventually leading her to the Sheridan bus depot. Sarah didn’t know who would be getting off at that stop, but whoever it was; they had a message and would be looking for her. Sarah could all but hope that this time, she wouldn’t have to run.