It’s got to be here somewhere. The text you sent, just before they took you away, led me here, to your chaotic workshop. What was it you were working on old man? What had you discovered that made you such a danger to them? Was it something in the half-finished box? Or perhaps I’m supposed to decipher some sort of message from the board of stones and shells? Help me, my old friend. What am I looking for? They’ll be coming for me next. I’m running out of time.
they’re taking away
the hours and minutes –
leaving us timeless
An intriguing prompt from Friday Fictioneers.
I decided on a Haibun – a mixture of prose and Haiku.