100-word Flash Fiction. #FridayFictioneers
“You okay, sir?”
Isaac slowly opened his eyes and looked around—and up, way up.
“Am I on a ship?” He peered at the sails and masts overhead.
“It’s an office building.”
“Never seen a buildin’ with sails.”
“Twenty-first century architecture,” the man said proudly.
The last thing Isaac remembered he was plowing the back field behind his draft horse. Abraham Lincoln recently married Mary Todd, so he’d heard.
“Crossed the Atlantic with people, animals, and cargo on a ship that wasn’t near this big. What do ya see from those crows nests?”
“Waste o’ good farmland, you mean.”