Starting Over – Again **Friday Fictioneers**

Good Wednesday-Friday, my Peeps!  I thought I’d have to wait until tonight to write my FF but got cancelled from work because of lack of golfers.  Woot!  Ah, celebrations were short-lived.  They realised that by cancelling me for 11, they would be short for 4.  Oh well, at least it gave me a few extra hours to ruminate over this lovely picture supplied by Ted Strutz by our illustrious leader, Rochelle.  I confess I totally was inspired by a fellow blogger’s own post from last week.  So, thank you, Raye.  I hope you don’t mind!

To join in on the fun, click on the blue frog to add your link.  If you’re not sure how this party works, just click on Rochelle‘s name for the how-to.

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Genre:  Fiction inspired by real events

Word count:  Toujours 100

Starting Over – Again

It happened just about every three years.  She couldn’t explain it and didn’t bother trying.  The urge to pack up and move to a new place was strong.  It wasn’t for the money because basically she exchanged four quarters for a dollar.  It wasn’t because she couldn’t forge friendships with her neighbours.  All started with exchanges of food goodies and plants and moved to dinner parties.

Suddenly, the itch started and wouldn’t be ignored.  Again the procedure of selling the old and finding a new, usually, one town over.

This time was different.  The island would keep her longer.

Right?

Don’t Fence Me In – Friday Fictioneers

‘Tis a beautiful Wednesday.  Sun is shining but still bitterly cold.  Spring, eh?  Riiiiight….

So, what better to bring our spirits up than to participate in Friday Fictioneers!  This lovely image was provided by J.Hardy Carroll and chosen by our hostess with the mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  What does this picture make you think of?  Why not share that in 1oo words by clicking on the Blue Frog below and adding your version?

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Genre:  Fiction (ish)

Word count:  ALWAYS 100

Don’t Fence Me In

I need wide open spaces.

You can’t get around alone anymore.

So.  I still need to breathe.

So do I.  And I can’t here.

This is my home. I don’t want to leave it!

It was our home.  We have no choice.  We can no longer handle it alone.

I can’t even decide for myself now?  Have I no say?

Yes, you can decide to stay.  I, however, will not.  I’m tired.  I miss my family, who want to help us.

Tears in his eyes, his good side slumped to the now-defunct side.  I know, It’s what we must do.