Every town has one of those tower thingy which reflects it’s history. Redville, was so named due to the massive bloodshed which occurred post-colonialism. Yellowville derived its name from the character of its ancestors, they were said to be “bowls of sunshines”. Blueville was formerly an area of water, before the drought set in and the water dried.
And then of course, Greenville, my very own town. It’s said to have gotten its name due to the generous nature of our fore fathers. They helped out neighboring towns with food during the historical famine.
Until now, each town abided by its name- the redvillers are aggressive people, the yellowvillers are happy people, the bluevillers still arrogantly dwell on the fact that they were formerly a sea body but with the greenvillers, something’s changed.
A series of armed robbery is threatening the piety of our name. Oh boy, what tragedy it’d be to have our name changed to “theifville”. The redvillers would never let us hear the end of it. Those robbers better get caught.
word count: 175. This story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy. Each week we are given a picture and are to write a short story of about 150 words (+/- 25). Thank you Sonya for this week’s photo.