Photo credit: Zengame via Flickr
The great hall echoed with laughter and lutes. Men and women danced in jewel-hued silk robes, wearing elaborate hair-sculptures and hats of every shape.
Raen staggered through the crowd, searching for anyone he recognized, any clue. He screamed: “What happened to you?”
Nobody even noticed him.
Then it shattered, like lake ice cracking beneath him, and he fell back into the silent present. He raced through the now-familiar corridors: endless, empty, exit-less.
Why had he been left behind?
Ahead, a shadow moved. Captor? Monster? Friend? Raen no longer cared. Anything would be better.
With one last hope, he chased it.
Word count: 100. Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our intrepid hostess! And thanks to Roger Bultot for providing the original photo prompt, below. Click the FF link to read the other stories written for this challenge, and to write your own — everyone is welcome!
Photo © Roger Bultot