Friday rolls around again, and with it Friday Fictioneers. Writers around the world receive a prompt pic from Rochelle:
And the 100 words
flow! trickle! c ome eventually! are persuaded slowly and painfully onto the page! Here are mine…
Many summers camping and foraging, many survival books consumed, had taught Simon what was safe to eat. When we trekked through forests he would select the ugliest, most mis-shapen, over-ripe fruit. “These have most natural sugars,” he would say, “they aren’t much to look at, but they can keep you going long enough to save your life.” The brightest berries with their enticing reds were rejected though, the poisons they hid were lethal.
He was never suited to the city. All those people, he said, all those cars.
And that day on the crossing, there was one car too many.