The Fence Line Friday Fictioneers

One ever changing photo prompt, 100 +/- words, 100+/- writers, 100+/- different stories. That would be  FRIDAY FICTIONEERS.

Word Count: 98

Genre: Historical

Thanks to our weekly Hostess, Rochelle, for providing feedback and inspiration. 

Photo Copyright Erin Leary
Photo Copyright Erin Leary

Fog as sticky and thick as molasses, still somehow light and airy. Unlike any they’d ever seen.

Memories of playing in lush Kentucky Blue along The Fence Line, boys, Brothers, Friends.

Autumn leaves dancing before going lightly aground.

They’d played here, loved here, lived here.

Now they died here.

In the still silence, thick with expectancy . Hushed.

Amidst the lush Kentucky Blue, Brother against Brother, Father against Son.

Facing off at The Fence Line.

1861. The spent cannons smoked. Bodies piled high. Union Blue. Confederate  Gray.

Memories of playing in lush Kentucky Blue,  along The Fence Line, boys, Brothers, Friends.

~~~~

Shandra

To read the wide range of contributions from other writers, click here

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14 comments

  1. Dear Shandra,

    The most haunting part of this piece is that they played in the same place as children. .A horrifying piece of a American history. Nicely done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Like

  2. Any war is terrible but one that splits families and childhood friends may be the worst. Good job. I’m glad you got the link fixed. I tried to get here several times yesterday and couldn’t.

    janet

    Like

  3. Shandra, Very good story and fitting memorial to the Civil War soldiers. If you travel through a state like Virginia, there seem to be battle fields everywhere. That was a hideous war where as many, if not more, died in the hospitals as on the battlefields. Well written. —Susan

    Like

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