Written for the August 2nd Flash Fiction Challenge
peering through his scope at the landscape below
an encampment, an encampment of one
that almost went unnoticed.
a flax coloured tent with a muted hue, sombre. quietly
blending into the background,
a cold camp, no fire and the only sign of life is a yellow dog
stretched out and still
near an assortment of gear, stacked to one side
it has to be him
it must be Munroe
nothing to do now except stand by,
Munroe will be back.
a disturbance from behind, then a voice, whispers,
“Hullo, Sutherland. What took you so long?”
The prompt and instructions were:
In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a yellow tent. Where is it and who does it belong to? Think of how the colour adds to the story. Go where the prompt leads.