castles made of sand fall into the sea eventually

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Fleener,” Doctor Fensterblau told Mabel as Harry’s favorite Hendrix song played in the background.

“We couldn’t save him.”

Just then Harry was greeted by a tall, dapper, gaunt stranger.

“Ah, welcome, Mr. Fleener!” exclaimed his host in an ominous voice.

“I’m Mr. Monahan. Do sign in at the gate, won’t you?”

“Where am I?” Harry demanded to know.

“You’ll get your explanation in good time, my friend,” was Monahan’s reply.

Harry thought back to his French classes. “‘Sable’ rhymes with ‘diable’, he mused.

“That’s not all they have in common,” Monahan reminded him.

Rochelle Wisoff~Fields leads us weekly in Friday Fictioneers, an attempt to write a hundred~word story based upon a picture. This week’s photo prompt was supplied by Ceayr.

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