Calvin pocketed his hands gazing at his sneakers.
“Weed? donnu ma.”
Sybil couldn’t believe how quickly her bright-eyed son had transformed into this gangly teenager. Welcome acne, welcome worrying.
Gone were chess tournaments, gone were music classes.
Every night she listened for the door before she fell asleep.
Every morning she went to work with Calvin still asleep.
Gone was school as well.
The last year she had barely seen him, but now the time had come to send her son away. Selling at the schoolyard had been the limit.
Far away she heard the sirens from approaching squad cars.The first thing I thought of with this picture was weed, and then the story wrote itself. I missed last week primarily because I was busy at work, and I still a, so it might take a while for me to get around and visit your stories. This weekend we are having a book release for our anthology where I have contributed one short story. The electronic release will come later, but if you are interested in updates like our Facebook page..
Friday fictioneers attracts some of the best flashfiction writers on the internet. Each week we struggle to find a story in the same picture in 100 words. Rochelle choose the picture and set the example, come join this fun.