Days are slow and vacant in this “once-happening “middle class neighborhood. The friendly lane by my window would buzz with sounds of children, happy young men and street peddlers. People are increasingly seeking shelter in safer cities, even countries. Business is perishing under threats of frequent curfews . Tourists are few and far between. Today , however, seems to be different . I hear faint murmurs, rapidly developing into audible sounds. I see teenage boys , not with footballs but placards , proclaiming “Peace not war”.My neighbor’s sons wave to me . I realize they have been long gone. Some sights as echoes live on.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.Thank you, dear Rochelle for our photo prompt.