Welcome to the first Friday Fictioneers of the New Year. I had a rough go of it today with some computer issues, but thanks to my wonderful brother-in-law, Chris, all is well again. I am a happy camper. Our Hostess par Excellence is the not-to-be-fooled-by-her-size Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week she chose an intriguing photo that stumped me for a bit by Roger Bultot. Thank you both for your part in this week’s submission.
Should you wish to participate, just click on Rochelle’s name above or, if you already get that we have 100 words, sans title, to tell a story with a beginning, middle and end based on the photo below, then click on ze Bleu Frogue.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: Toujours 100
Meditation Soiled
With a sense of satisfaction for a job well done, Mama pinned the last of the white clothes on the clothesline.
“There! They’ll be bleached by the sun and smell like sunshine when done.” Of all the chores involved in keeping the house up and running, laundry was her favourite. Most people hated doing it: the washing, hanging, ironing, folding. Not her. It was a meditation, blocking out the regular chaos.
“Woooo hooooo!” Mama watched in horror as her children chased each other between the now mud-tracked, no-longer-white whites.
She didn’t love it enough to have to do it twice!
