If you like my work, buy me a virtual cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.
Sam grasped the fence post as nausea doubled him over. The throb on this right side spread around to his back. He wondered just how long seventy years of debauchery would take to kill him.
“Can’t be.” He tried to shake off his headache and clear his vision. “It is. But it can’t be. They’ve been dead for over 50 years. The old farm was sold at auction. It’s a damned subdivision now.”
Grandma stepped out of the barn and waved at him. “Sammy. Dinner’s about ready. Come on home.”
The twelve-year old boy scrambled down the path toward Heaven.
It’s Wednesday and once again time to participate in Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ 26 January 2024 edition of Friday Fictioneers.
The idea is to use the image above as the prompt for crafting a poem or story no more than 100 words long. My word count is exactly 100.
I’ve got the cold or flu or something. Not feeling or sleeping well. This story pretty much wrote itself.
To read other stories based on the prompt, visit inlinkz.
Only ONE DAY LEFT to download my science fiction/fantasy novelette “Ice” from Amazon for FREE. Don’t miss out. How often do you get a chance at a free book and from an author you have some familiarity with.

At least he has his memories 🤷🏻♀️
LikeLike
Actually, he just died and this is where he went to afterwards.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear James,
A happy ending of sorts. 😉 Hope you get to feeling better.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLike
A touching idea that he would return to an innocent time before all that debauchery.
LikeLike
Where ever we call “home.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Takes the whole “I see dead people” to another level! Hopefully, the pain also leaves him.
LikeLike
It already has.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was pretty sure…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am sure Grandma’s cooking is just like ‘heaven’.
LikeLike
Oh, it is.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is such a lovely view of death and afterlife! Thank you.
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLike
From what I’ve read, and heard in my counseling office, it’s not unusual for a dying person to have visions of dearly loved people and places just before they pass.
LikeLike
I was being more metaphysical than that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, and I got that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope he treated his family well…
LikeLike
He’s 12 again, so I think it’ll be okay.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reminds me of an old Twilight Zone episode, where the old folks turn into children and run away (to heaven.) There are worse ways to go…
LikeLike
Agreed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s always special when someone welcomes you home.
A little reminder of Benjamin Button. Nicely done, James.
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Loved that ending – a nice way to go 🙌
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aww…I love this!
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I loved this story, James. This is the way I want to go (without the nausea). I hope you’re feeling better soon.
LikeLike
Thanks. Still raging headaches.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Being twelve again, now that would not be so bad.🙂
LikeLike
The best parts of it anyway. Thanks.
LikeLike
I like how you handled his transition from this world to the next. Very subtly done and it took me right there with him. (not literally – I hope). I hope you feel better soon.
LikeLike
Thanks, Margaret.
LikeLiked by 1 person
70 years of debauchery will take its toll, and the toll is a heavy one.
I hope you’re feeling better. I hate being sick. Somehow, it’s worse when you’re not quite sure what it is.
LikeLike
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Walk to heaven!
Home is heaven 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person