The sprawling mansion at the tip of the sound used to be the epicenter of high society life on the peninsula. The lavish parties that the wealthy young couple would throw every few weeks during the season were known far and wide among the hoity-toity upper class residents who summered at the Sound.
But then tragedy struck when Malcolm’s young wife lost her life in a freak boating accident. After that, Malcolm was never the same. In his state of deep depression, he fired all of the household staff and the grounds crew, and unlike when his wife was still alive, the once majestic property quickly slipped into a state decay.
Nothing, it seemed, could inspire Malcolm to either sell or properly maintain the property. He lived alone in the huge mansion in what could only be described as a hermit-like life of solitude.
No one had heard from or seen Malcolm for many months after the accident and some of his worried neighbors contacted the police and asked them to go to the mansion to check up on Malcolm.
When he didn’t answer the door, the two officers broke down the door and were almost overcome by a horrible stench. They feared they would find Malcolm’s dead and decaying body, but what they did find truly shocked them.
Malcolm was sitting on a chair in front of his computer, headphones covering his ears and mumbling something unintelligible. He was a shell of the once robust man they knew. His frail and emaciated body was barely recognizable. He was unkempt, unshaven, and unwashed.
“What is he doing?” one officer asked.
The other policeman walked over to where Malcolm was sitting. He looked at the computer screen and said, “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” the first officer asked.
“I think he’s playing Fortnite.”
Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent. Also for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (class), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (alive), Your Daily Word Prompt (inspire), and Ragtag Daily Prompt (solitude).
Written for the In Other Words prompt from Patricia’s Place. The challenge this week is to write a story or poem of five lines or fewer using the picture above and/or the word “
So Rory (A Guy Called Bloke) started another one of his poetry blog hop thingies. He chooses a topic — in this case, insomnia — and writes four lines of rhyming verse. Then he tags one of his readers who will, in turn, add his or her own four lines of rhyming verse to Rory’s and then tag one of his or her own readers to do the same. And so on and so on. It’s a case of wash, rinse, repeat. Once the poem [verse] leaves Rory’s blog, the next series of bloggers can take it wherever they want with regards their own four line verses, but they must always stay on topic.
Welcome to July 11, 2019 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.
This, That, and the Other 