The train from Florence delivered them just yards from the snail. The tallest girl in the tour group slunk away to capture its porous skin, but instead led the boys to the threshold of a teenage scheme.
French cars zipped by on the highway below them. The girl could see the American glee in the gang’s eyes as they calculated the risk, snail to windshield.
“No, don’t,” she said.
But the mob ruled. They whooped.
#
A single photo she hasn’t looked at since that day. A gentle snail curled on a brave finger, the coming plunge a blurry, gray background.
Photographer: maaddin
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Thank you for reading! This is part of a micro fiction series where I take a photo and write a story inspired by it. Each story is 100 words.
If you enjoyed, you might like this one:
About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
Most stories are reverted to Drafts, but will keep up resources & posts that hold community significance. May drop in for tips or updates.
My love & gratitude to you all.
It's time to pivot.
Boycott ALL A.I. \ Copyright Mackenzie Davis
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Comments (3)
I love the idea of a negative memory being a "single photo she hasn't looked at since that day." Like Dharrhseena stated, I love the wordplay! Unique piece you got here
I like your wordplay in the title. That was brilliant! It's fascinating to know that this was based on actual events!
Is the story based on actual events? If not, why Florence? and French cars?