Apocalyptic Pen Pals

Welcome to my contribution to Friday Fictioneers. Each week, about 100 writers from around the globe respond to a photo prompt with their 100-word stories. You are welcome to play along.

This week, my photo has been featured, and I took a little extra time to craft a suitable tale. These 102 words are lovingly dedicated to my friend, Terrill Willard, who first told me about his dream back when no one else was listening to either one of us. Names and details have changed, but I hope the wide-eyed wonder of youth remains alive in our hearts forever.

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford

Apocalyptic Pen Pals

Years later, Quinton still remembered the end of the world each time he saw a silo. They were smaller then, but at the end of the world, size was relative.

Quinton only told one other person how the world ended—with himself and a friend cheering it on. He and Suzanne were misfits, natural companions. Once the world’s end, seen from the world’s largest grain elevator, burned into his memory, he burnt it into hers.

Suzanne never forgot. Each week she sent another photo—a grain elevator, a silo, ripening grain beneath a sun-pinkened sky—mementos of youth, reminders of the future.

The world's (now second) longest grain elevator. Photo courtesy of The Center for Land Use Interpretation, Creative Commons, CC 3.0, Share Alike

The world’s (now second) longest grain elevator. Photo courtesy of The Center for Land Use Interpretation, Creative Commons, CC 3.0, Share Alike