With each brick removed

PHOTO PROMPT – © C.E.Ayr

It’s an odd thing to sit and watch your past gently demolished.

Graffiti and gang signs dissolve under a wave of gentrification. Murals and memories destroyed, history is hosed down.

Cleansed.

Old blood drips red once more with each brick removed, before washing away forever.

Blood on the concrete; a skinned knee on a basketball court. Blood in the school-yard; a lost tooth in fight with a friend. Blood on the sheets; two teens too young to hold back.

Spilled in the building of a life, now washing away in a tsunami of affluence and economics.

Displaced? No.

Unplaced.

Adrift.


100 words.

Time again for some Friday Fictioneers – thanks to Rochelle for hosting this weekly challenge, and thanks to C.E. Ayr for this week’s compelling picture prompt. The challenge, as always, is to write a complete story in no more than 100 words, including a beginning, a middle and an end.

(I don’t always manage to get a beginning, middle and end in each week, but that’s why it’s a challenge :)).

Click on this link to read all the other stories (often in the order of 100!). I encourage you to read, to comment and to share any of the stories you might like (including this one, if it passes muster)!

Cheers

KT

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17 thoughts on “With each brick removed

  1. A nice reflection on ‘progress’ which contrasts the background of the photo with the foreground very effectively. I had to think about the phrase ‘gently demolished’. Demolished is such a violent, forceful word that the contradiction with gently pulled me up before I got started. Not sure how else to phrase it though … ‘dismantled’? Good piece.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Sandra 🙂

      Gently demolished is a bit of a hangover from an earlier draft; I was working an alliteration of ‘gently gentrified’… I thought it still worked, but you might be right!

      Cheers
      KT

      Like

  2. I immediately thought of places in my childhood, and the great memories I had there. When I visit now, they don’t even remotely resemble the vestiges of my memory. It’s like they’ve been stolen from me. Washed away. Adrift is a very appropriate term.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sorry, KT. Itchy trigger finger again. As I was saying, I like ‘gently demolished’. It sets the tone for the piece. Life in the city is just moving forward, as it does, wiping out the past. I love the language – you are a master of alliteration, I think. It works, but doesn’t leap out too jarringly. Great story.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is well done. This is my favorite line: “Old blood drips red once more with each brick removed…” I also like the parallelism, “blood, blood, blood…etc.” The violent (perhaps visceral) imagery contrasts well with the “gentle demolishing” to which the narrator refers.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Dear KT,

    They call it progress. Tsunami of affluence…well put. Like Russell, I can think of quite a few places that have been torn down since I was a child–the grade school I attended is one. I still see when I drive by the sleek office building that took its place. Well written.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

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