It was that hazy time of day when it’s just beginning to darken but there’s still plenty of light to see where you’re going. And I was heading out. The interstate was just about the only way out now that wasn’t standing under water.
The last heavy rain had flooded the town for one last time for me. Most everyone had already gone anyway. Our small town had been steadily declining for years. The young folk had moved elsewhere to find jobs and start families. There were just a few of us “oldtimers” left and now there was one less.
Photo Credit: The Reclining Gentleman
Join us at Flash Fictioneer Friday with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and write a story in 100 words: https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/09/23/25-september-2015/