What a Mess!

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The storm had been vicious. Cleaning up would take time, especially with the boisterous and unpredictable weather.

“I can’t imagine why these flimsy plastic chairs are still in place. Everything else got blown to kingdom come,” said Jessie.

“Well, let’s get them out of the way so we can clean up,” responded Sam. He grabbed hold of the backs of each chair and pulled, expecting to move them. He pulled again. They didn’t budge.

Elmer laughed. “They don’t know we’re here. They don’t remember how heavy we are.”

“Ghosting’s going to be fun!” giggled Bertha.

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But Why. . . .

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

“Mommy, what are those . . . . balls?”

“They’re babies, Mark. They’re floating downstream to be claimed by their parents.”

“But . . . .is that how you and Daddy got me?”

“Yes.”

“But how did you know? They don’t have faces, or name tags!”

The right parents just find the right babies. It works.”

But what if no one finds their baby?”

“I, um, I’m not sure, Mark.”

“And why are there so many more girls than boys?”

“Mark, you ask too many questions. I don’t always know every answer.”

“But Mom—“

“Hush. Let’s get some ice cream.”

Scary Place

PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa  

Zing and Zang trembled in the darkest corner they could find. Their surroundings were dismal. Dark, bleak, cold, musty. Water poured from a pipe into a deep cistern. Moisture clung to the walls.

“What on earth. . . ” started Zang. He couldn’t find any more words.

“Well,” pondered Zing, “They’ve sent us back in time, as they warned us. Good thing we’re invisible.”

As they watched and listened, storing everything in their memory banks, they sensed the fear. They watched the furtive glances, and heard the murmuring voices. Whatever was going on here filled them with terror.

Going to the Store

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Annie had never been in a Chinese grocery store. She clung to Mommy’s hand in the crowded aisles.

“So many kinds of rice!” said Mommy. “I don’t know. . . “

The short Chinese man beamed up at Mommy and offered his help.

“My husband is Chinese. His parents are coming to visit and I don’t know what to give them for supper!”

“Ah, Missus, come!” He led her to the exit, pointing to the American grocery store. “You make the nice pot roast, mash potato, gravy. Apple pie, ice cream. Tomorrow, ask his mother to help make husband’s favorites!”

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I don’t usually struggle to stay within 100 words, but my first draft of this story was 153 words, and NONE of them could be cut! Well, yes they could! Fifty-three words gone, and the story is still there 🙂