Here’s the photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers :
“Nope!” declared Old Harry. “I’m not leavin’! They took my land and gave me pennies on the acre. They robbed me, and I’m not leavin’! They’ll flood my land for their idiot “recreational lake” over my dead body!”
Old Harry took a chair from his kitchen table, plopped it down in the path of the coming lake. sat down, folded his arms over his scrawny chest, set his jaw, and waited.
Twelve days later, the reservoir was opened. No one ever saw Harry again, but his chair was unmoved.