Friday Fictioneers – Self-Contained

Sorry to miss last week, Fictioneers, but himself and I were family reunion-ing far enough up in the mountains that connectivity of the electronic variety wasn’t going to happen. Fifty of us managed to connect in much more human fashion. Fire-roasted corn, three-legged races, and sticky marshmallow hugs from the newest generation trumped the internet and it was a wonderful thing. As always, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this weekly party. It’s good to be back.


Self-Contained – 101 words

She wanted a road-trip; I wanted a cruise. We had a flat in the middle of nowhere.

She wanted bubble tea; I wanted a bacon biscuit. She slurped her gelatinous lumps through an over-sized green straw. “All that glass make me nervous,” she said. “Breakable bottles on breakable shelves. Who does that? One clumsy toddler equals disaster.”

“Those bottles have survived hundreds of years, and the shelves are attached to the wall.”

“Can’t you indulge my delusions for once?”

My stomach growled.

The door-chime announced the new arrivals. Distracted parents, frazzled kids, one untied shoestring.

“Let’s sit here, near the window.”



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