Oh, the corporation says they own it.
The fishermen say it’s really theirs.
But anyone who sees the cat’s proud steps, his confident gaze, knows who is truly the Master of the Dock.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Timothy Meinberg for providing the prompt photo!
At the hands of Cedric the Bull, a hundred yellow heads rolled from the grey two-by-four of the executioner’s slab. When the valiant knights of the Yellow Castle climbed the high walls of his fortress, they found them lying in a pit ten bricks deep, all jumbled together.
It took ages to match them up with their bodies again.
This is for Three Line Tales! Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Carson Arias for providing the prompt photo!
There is a school that does not advertise, that has no website, no campus tours.
Its alumni are the powers behind the world, the figures in the shadows, whispering in the ears of presidents and kings.
They are the writers of history.
This is for Three Line Tales! Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Faustin Tuyambaze for providing the prompt photo!
The picture looks like a graduation which, coincidentally – or not coincidentally, given the time of year – is what I’ll be attending next week. Only a BA, though, not a degree in ruling the world from the shadows. 😉
“Just sing,” they tell him. “You’re only an entertainer and it’s not your job to talk about these things.”
But he has seen what comes of silence.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Paulette Wooten for providing the prompt photo!
A sea of red rose over the dark outline of the hills, all the world cast in primitive shades of blood and ash. Acacia watched the telephone pole towering over the treetops, seeing it become strange and alien in the light of the setting sun.
Then she turned away, looking out over the dark waves of treetops rising and falling before her – a world without telephone poles, where the only sound was the whistling of the wind – and took a step forward.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Adi Ulici for providing the prompt photo!
The dying fish, schools of silver corpses washing up on the riverbank, were the first sign.
Shades of grey rippled through the forest: trees discarding their leaves, branches withering, butterflies and flowers lying in heaps upon dry soil, and pale ash everywhere – in the choking air, piling on the ground, nestling upon leafless branches.
The Dark Tower stood over it all like a poisoned dagger plunged into the earth, spreading its venom in all directions, relentless in its onslaught.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Clay Knight for providing the prompt photo!
His bulbs caught the light of distant stars – a sliver of their magnificence, bound in flickering wire and gleaming glass. They burned bold and bright for year after year – as long as the stars stayed in the sky, the bulbs would glow, he promised – and people flocked from across the world to behold their marvelous star-spun light.
One day, the bulbs started to go out.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Nick de Partee for providing the prompt photo!
