“We’ve hiked three days to get here, Jason. Are you sure it’s worth it?”
“According to the old library book it should be.”
Jason and Jill climbed down the heavily wooded gully. “Should be around…there. The moaning rock.”
“Just a big rock, Jason.”
Then they heard the moan.
“I don’t like this Jason. Let’s go back.”
“Wait.”
“Alone.” The voice from the rock sounded like the wind.
“Are you the spirit?” The book was written eighty years ago by a hiker who said the rock was haunted.
“Home.” Lights started shining from deep depressions.
“No, Jason. Not spirits. A spaceship.”
I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers writing challenge. The idea is to craft a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long based on the photo above. My word count is exactly 100.
The first thing I thought of when I saw the picture of the rock is that it looked like it was somehow alive. I was torn between making it a horror story or science fiction. Jason and Jill almost had their souls eaten by spirits. Then I decided for a happier ending.
To read other stories inspired by the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.









