It was a several centuries old graveyard in Philadelphia that I had always meant to explore. Tonight I hesitated, though, because it was nearing darkness and there existed a rumor that it was haunted by Revolutionary War spirits.
But I entered, and as I walked among the headstones of many distant figures of heroic proportion, I saw a light and two small girls sitting on the grass. Trembling a bit, I approached them.
"Children," I said, "you are not of these times, are you?"
"No, kind sir," replied one. "We are the children of the heroes you see interred beneath."
"But why are you here?" I asked.
"We have brought a message for you."
"A message for me?”
"That is right, kind sir."
"What in heaven's name is it?!!"
"If you are going to visit this hallowed place, please make sure your fly is zipped up first!"
Well, folks, I am very well pleased to present this wise counsel for you to remember any time you visit a historic, religious, or Disney-owned site anywhere in the world. Please keep this principle foremost in your mind while also keeping backmost in your mind that I went over the word limit today by, oh, a time and a half.
Can I help it that the spirits of those two little girls were verbose?
Verbose or otherwise, you can read some of the other Friday Fictioneers takes on the prompt above by clicking here. But first, time to check you-know-what!