Wrecked crew

Sunday photo fiction. Try and concoct a story in about 200 words to describe the photo provided by Al. I really enjoy this and can’t get enough of it. So here goes.

The look on the foreman’s face said it all. I wasn’t sure what exactly we’d done wrong, but by the level of darkness on his face I knew it was something terrible.

The first thing to run through my mind was that Johnny had killed a bystander while operating the ‘dozer. I’d never been a part of that before but had heard horror stories. We took extra precaution to keep folks back, but sometimes the worst could happen.

But I heard no sirens from approaching emergency vehicles.

Then I noticed the old man walking a step behind the foreman. Tears in his eyes. I’d never seen him before. Damn, I bet he left his dog in the building. Poor mutt never had a chance.

I looked back at the crew. They were staring at me. Johnny hanging outside the bulldozer gave me a shrug. I shrugged back.

“Hey boss,” I said.

The foreman nodded. Motioned to the old man behind him. “This is Don. Owns the building we just knocked down.”

“Okay,” I said, waiting for the rest.

“Wrong building,” the foreman said.

He pointed to a brownstone adjacent to the rubble. “Supposed to knock down that one.”

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