“…and this old cart remains here even to-date.” The guide said as he led us away from the cart. “Why, I don’t know. Nobody knows. Now, if everyone will follow me.” I remained standing where I was. Something about this cart looked familiar to me. I felt drawn to it as though this belonged to me.
“Why are you still standing there, Annie?” My boyfriend, Josh, said. “Come on.” Reluctantly, I walked away. “I’ll be back,” I muttered to the cart.
That night, I returned to the site of cart. I didn’t need directions, the location of the cart shone like a beacon in my mind. As I lay a hand on the wooden cart, I saw a blinding flash of light. I shut my eyes and when I opened them again, I was in the woods. What happened? I wondered as I heard the tumbling of wheels in the distance. Someone’s coming.
I darted behind a tree. As the person with the cart passed, I gasped silently. The person with the cart was me.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.
Thank you for choosing my picture for this prompt this week. This picture was taken outside a barn when I went to my neighbor’s daughter’s wedding reception two years ago. It’s interesting of how random the placement of the cart is because it was the farthest thing from the barn.