Time now for Friday Fictioneers, a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Fiction in 100 words. if you want to do it, click the link and follow the instructions. My story follows the photo. It’s autobiographical.
When I left the bar it started to rain hard.
On a whim, I offered to buy a woman’s umbrella.
Ten bucks, I said.
Twenty, she countered.
We settled for fifteen.
The rain hammered all around me, dry enough in my portable shelter, pretending I didn’t know where I was walking.
But I knew.
The front gate looked the same as the last time I saw it.
My father’s funeral had been sunny, just as my grandmother’s had been twenty years before.
The gate wasn’t locked, but I would never again be welcomed.
I sat on the porch and smoked.