The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story/poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide.
“That is one seriously fucked up, mother-loving, cup.”
Not exactly the response I’d expected, but with Dan one never knew.
“It’s not meant to be from Hardees.”
“So what do you really think? Would these be good?”
Dan rubbed his nose. “You sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s not like you can change your mind later.”
“Come on, man. It’s just a party.”
Dan raised an eyebrow, gave me a look.
“Okay, so you don’t approve. Shall I list the ways I don’t care?”
“It’s a stupid holiday.”
I shrugged. “Yes or no?”
“All right. Sure, they’d be fine. Kick-ass skull goblets, how can you go wrong?”
“Thank you.” I gathered up a case of the goblets and marched them up to the counter, setting them with my growing pile of purchases.
Dan is a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, even if he is a bit straight-laced for my thinking.
Who cares if Halloween was a pagan ceremony?
I pulled out my wallet, ignoring the stag-headed Master of the Hunt glaring at me from behind the wall of paper luau supplies.
It was going to be a damn fine party.