Storied Stories



They climbed in silence, single file, the occasional foot scraping a bare concrete step.

Lindon pressed his lips. It helped stop the trembling. This was his first ‘trip’ off the ward and he wanted to look around. To look at others for their reactions. But new or not, he’d learned enough to understand that it was better not to. He kept his head low.

A scent hit him. Like Grandma’s house. Last month. Eons ago. He blinked.

The stairs ended. He looked up. His eyes grew.

His heart, too.

A room of books.

Stories. Escape.

He knew he would survive.



For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Ted Strutz



42 thoughts on “Storied Stories

    • Indeed he is, isn’t he? And I hope that he’d be able to relax his survival mode just a bit while in the company of books, and I am encouraged to know that there IS a room of books in that place. Because that is already a step in the survivable direction. 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

  1. That was outstanding. The fear, resignation and suppressed emotion were so clear and present, and then the elation. I love that you linked the smell to Grandma’s house. It shows, like the ‘escape’, that he is used to books and knows what they mean to him. This is a character I would love to read more about.

    Liked by 1 person

    • So glad both the apprehension and relief were palpable! Interesting to think of a possible serious illness – just as plausible as other possibilities! And, yes, the relief would be immense, wouldn’t it? 🙂


    • Yes! And even if he didn’t know where he was going or what the scent would mean for him, personally, the memory of safety, in of itself, can be a helpful thing. 🙂 (and … those of us who know the comfort of books, understand!)

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply to Dale Cancel reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s