It almost looked pretty. I walked up to the building through the falling ashes. Did you know that ashes sting the eyes? Even cold? Total combustion causes that. All carbon is gone; mix with water and you get caustic potassium hydroxide. All that is left from the ovens. Caustic memories. My job? Stay out of the ovens by picking the next offering. How do I select? It is arbitrary. I am death, and I don’t care. The door opens and it is dark. I will see someone, and I will choose. Movement. You! It is Ash Wednesday. Time to go.

So, I may have miss stepped. One 100 word story prompted by the picture. One 50 word continuation of your prompt. Tried to hit the vibe I see in your newsletter. Thanks!

In tiny Woodbury, an oddly massive hospital looms, void of doctors, nurses, and beds. Locals, curious, venture to Mainhaven for medical care. Woodbury’s relic is boarded-up, with a forbidden basement that lures adventurous kids. They unearth eerie, rusted tools reminiscent of horror films. Legend whispers that a century ago, the colossal structure was the state asylum, harboring bizarre events. Patients, lost in time, vanished mysteriously. Rumor suggests one transformed into the town’s mayor, proving unexpectedly adept. In the shadows of Woodbury’s past, whispers of a sinister era persist, casting an ominous veil over the unsuspecting town.