‘This is it?’ Hank spat. ‘What the hell is this?’

‘Ain’t no pot of gold, that’s for sure.’ Kurt answered.

‘A goddamn shack in the middle of a goddamn wilderness. I done told you chasing rainbows was an idiot idea.’

‘You’re right, Hank. I should’ve listened.’

They stood kicking loose dirt. The rain stopped, the rainbow faded.

‘Let’s get goin’.’ Hank got back into the truck.

Kurt gave a mournful look across the flat plain, nothing in sight apart from the mountains in the distance.

Hank hit the horn.

‘I’m coming,’ Kurt shouted. ‘Goddamn rainbow.’

Hank spun the wheels as they u-turned on the dirt track and careened back onto the highway.

The dust settled and silence returned.

A low rumble started under the ground. The loose stones began to jump. Bits of the shack fell off as it’s foundations shook. The tremors reached a crescendo.

The shack blew apart as gallons of black liquid erupted from the ground, a dark geyser pouring the most valuable commodity in the world into the clear skies.

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.