The abandoned steam engine had sat idle for so long the tumbleweeds, briars, and yellow birch saplings had almost covered it. The old number sixteen still bared its number proudly–but how had the number escaped being overgrown?
A sound, light scratching from inside the once-proud locomotive. Then there was something that almost sounded like a whisper. I peeked inside. It was vacant. There was no wind to cause the weeds to scratch. What was going on?
This is a prompt from
She is doing a mini-series on the five senses. The first one is hearing. Go to her blog and read the other responses. You’ll be glad you did.