He sat there, day after day with his yellow cap, green jacket, colorful socks, and sneakers. At the beginning, passerby would sit down next to him, asking him if he’s okay, where’s his family, and all those relevant questions. He would shake his head or smile and reply no thank you. After a week, the passerby stopping by his bench lessened and a month later, everyone ignored his presence like they would when they encounter a statue. Then one morning, after a snow storm through the night, a jogger passed by the bench. She didn’t notice anything strange until she was several steps passed the bench. She stopped, pulled her earbuds from her ears, turned, and screamed.
Ice crystals covered the man’s purple face. His eyes were wide open, staring up at the sky, not blinking while a small trail of blood ran from the bullet hole in his forehead to above the bridge of his nose.
Sorry for the horrifying take on this week’s picture. I’ve been binge watch crime dramas most of the week (first Elementary then Bones) that my fantasies have morphed into the horror and crime drama genre.
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.