Sunday Photo Fiction: The Parade

We’d arrive in New York City from the other side of the ocean. Our beta time was off and we were 112-07-july-12th-2015too excited to sleep.

“Let’s check out that bridge,” my husband said, looking out the window. So we went.

The closer we got to the bridge, the less people we saw on the streets and those we did see were moving fast in the opposite direction from us.

“You sure about this? It seems that everyone is running from the bridge,” I said.

“They’re just trying to get home in time for a good night sleep,” he said.

Somewhere in the distance, we heard bells chime 1 AM. At that exact moment, the parade started. Men, women and children all dress in mid 20th Century clothing walked in what looked like small groups of families and/or friends. They chatted and laughed as if there was not a care in the world.

But . . .

People in the parade stepped out of the air at one end the bridge, crossed the bridge and stepped back into nothingness at the other end.

Our excitement evaporated. We ran back to our room and to good night sleep.

 The End

***

 

This photo prompt was inspired by Sunday Photo Fiction. Every week on a Sunday, a new photo is posted as a prompt for a Flash Fiction challenge using around 200 words based on that image.

Click on the blue frog to read more stories based on the same photo prompt.

Click on Short Stories to read more of my stories.

Advertisements