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It Wasn’t Much To Look At

I’d come out here every day.  The dilapidated old shack appeared so close. I felt all I had to do was stretch out my hand and I’d be able to touch it.

It wasn’t much to look at but it was my home.

As a child, life had been hard and I realise now you had no choice but to send me away. Arrange for me to travel through the gap. Hoping I’d make something of myself.

And I have.

Yet despite my wealth, I still can’t discover how to step back through the portal and return to my home.

Mike Jackson

A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers

Categories: 100-Word Stories

Tagged as:


A writer of short stories.

13 replies

  1. Two portal stories in a row ( see Neel’s). I like the idea of using a portal as an escape from harsh circumstances. Like sending Hansel and Gretel into the woods, or your eldest child on a ship to America. Hope he finds his way back!


  2. No way to go back home, indeed. Spent the weekend traipsing down memory lane, visiting places we used to live only to find they’re now warehouses and/or vacant lots. Went to our hometown and realized we didn’t recognize anyone, and none recognized us. So it is with the past… Onward ho! There’s an uncharted future ahead.


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