It’s Wednesday and I was not going to play Friday Fictioneers this week. (No apologies after all, Rochelle!) I was going to work on one of the two dVerse poems that have piqued my interest. However, after a crappy night of sleep and a repeated pressing of the snooze button, my morning walk was forsaken. Plus, it’s damn cold out there. My motivation was lacking (of course, when it hits mid-day and I realise that I still have not half of my steps, I shall curse this morning’s decision. Until then, however, I hope you enjoy my little exchange that, while not exactly verbatim, is pretty damn close. Should you feel like sharing your 100-word story inspired by Claire Fuller’s photo, do click on the frog below and add your link!
I want my garage back. Now. I bought a house with a garage so I could actually park my car inside and it’s getting cold.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll take care of it.
Whose tires are those?
Bloody hell. It’s December seventh. By law we have to have our snow tires on our cars by December first.
I know! So eight of these tires are our summer tires! The others are what?
Going to be sold.
It’s too late!
They’re out of the way now, right?
As you can see, the garage situation was taken care of and yes, the tires are out of the way… as well as all the other stuff that had taken over.