The boys slowly approached the archway.
“You sure this is the right portal?” asked Jimmy.
“We followed the map; it’s got to be the right one,” insisted Ben.
Nate didn’t say a word, glancing at the bicycles parked nearby.
Something didn’t seem quite right to him.
Ben urged his buddies to go through.
“We only have a small window of opportunity, and then it’s too late. What do we have to lose?”
Ben and Jimmy stepped through.
Nate stayed behind.
Fifty years later, Nate stood once again at the portal and sobbed,
“Jimmy! Ben! I’m right behind you.”
This is my entry in the latest Friday Fictioneer prompt, hosted by Rochelle at this link. http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/
Photo copyright: Jennifer Pendergast