Technical difficulties

Dear Friday Fictioneers,
Our Word Press woes continue to challenge us. Some report not being able to comment on some posts at all. If you think you might be missing someone’s comments, check your spam or trash folders. I’ve found quite a few in mine. Also, many of my commentors are showing up as “Anonymous” or “Someone.” If there’s a doubt, please identify yourself. Sorry I can’t be of more help in these situations. I’m merely a user, not a tech. 😉 Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMOT © Fleur Lind

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Genre: Speculative Fiction
Word Count: 100

ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE

Couched in complacency, we never saw it coming.

The first few hours weren’t bad. We figured the electric company would remedy the problem while we enjoyed sandwiches by candlelight. Breaking from social media to actually communicate was nice.

After a month we were still in darkness and the grocery shelves were bare.

My car with its solid-state circuit for a brain is a useless hunk of metal.

Local doctors are at a loss to treat the simplest ailments.

Real books are in demand.

We’re learning to live off the land, but the internet is dead and silence is deafening.

JUST IN!!! DUE TO THE BUSY-NESS OF THE HOLIDAYS, I’M EXTENDING THIS PROMPT FOR ANOTHER WEEK. IF YOU HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO WRITE BECAUSE OF FAMILY CELEBRATIONS AND WHAT-NOT THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO POST A BARN BURNER FOR THE NEW YEAR.

***STAY CALM AND WRITE***

The next in this line of photos is the PHOTO PROMPT. Is the staircase going up or just coming down? Where does it take you? Tell me your story in a hundred words or less.

My story follows the prompt and the inLinkz blue frog. I appreciate honest comments and constructive crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright -Björn Rudberg

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Recently, I woke to find that our internet was down. Cut off from my online friends, a sense of panic flooded me. I felt empty and alone. The what-if’s bombarded me.

Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

EMP

Couched in complacency, we never saw it coming.

The first few hours weren’t bad. We figured the electric company would remedy the problem while we enjoyed sandwiches and chips by candlelight and a break from television.

After a month we were still in darkness and the grocery shelves were bare.

My car with its solid state circuit for a brain is a useless hunk of metal.

Local doctors are at a loss to treat the simplest diseases.

Real books are in demand.

We’re learning to live off the land but the internet is dead and the silence is deafening.