Written for Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative
Challenge #080. I chose Pic #4.
Here’s where the image took me.
Nobody told Bob the war was over.
For eighty years he’d floated and bounced in the North Atlantic, doing his job …. or trying to. Ships would approach and Bob would think “this is it, this is my moment”, and then they’d veer off at the last second. Every single time.
It was demoralizing, frankly.
When the harbor authority finally fished him out and planted him in this park, he’d hoped for some dignity. A plaque, perhaps. Instead, children poked him with sticks and pigeons used his horns for target practice.
Still, Bob had to admit the grass was nice. The trees. The misty mornings.
A jogger ran past and glanced over. Bob sat very still, wearing his most menacing expression.
The jogger took a photo and kept running.
“Eighty years”, Bob thought, “and not once.”
NAR©2026
This is “The Thing-Ummy-Bob (That’s Going To Win The War)” by Gracie Fields
Everything seen here was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 