Independence – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morn, my Reader-Friends!  Had to get at this out early as I’m working today.  Gonna be tough.  Haven’t worked since December 19th!  The joys of working in a golf club, eh?

A shout-out to a wonderful writer/artist/friend, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for taking care of us every week, keeping our creative juices going with these weekly prompts.  I know it ain’t easy.  Especially when you are putting together a fabulous book!  Can’t wait.  But have no choice.  😀  And thank you, Rochelle, for your sweet and heartfelt aside…

Do join in on our little weekly party by clicking on the blue frog and adding your own 100-word story that was inspired by this lovely photo by Marie Gail Stratford.  Thanks, Marie Gail!

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I can do it myself, you know.

Yes, I know.

I don’t need your help.

I know you don’t.

Then why do you insist on helping me?

Because I want to.  It makes me happy to help you.

But why?  What’s in it for you?

It’s who I am.  There is nothing in it for me but to be here for you and make your life easier.

It makes no sense to me.

You’re so independent.  Let me do my little part.  What are you afraid of?

That my self will be eclipsed again after I have finally re-found it.

Too Little, Too Late – Friday Fictioneers

Hey, hey, hey there!  Hope all is well with you.  Thanks to Tracey and Rochelle‘s back and forth on my posted “Secret Admirer” pic (on Facebook), it got chosen as a prompt…

I will be most interested in seeing what others come up with!

Should you want to join in on the fun, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  To simply enjoy reading the other stories, click on ze bleu frogue…

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Really?  Always 100!

Too Little, Too Late

Boxes packed, she took one more look around the place, trying to feel something.  Anything.  She couldn’t.  She was numb.

After years of working at what she thought would be a wonderful future, she finally accepted that she was the only one doing the building.

Every time she got to a point of wanting to give up, he turned on the charm; became the most attentive lover, the best partner and she’d be fooled into staying.

Not this time.  She was not going to waste the rest of her life with such a man.

He could keep his damn flowers.