Friday Fictioneers 11-25-2017

PHOTO PROMPT ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Michael stood in the doorway, staring in at the wreck beyond. What the….?


A petite face peered around the door. “Yes?”

His eyes took in the mess again, then turned to her.  “Didn’t I ask you to clean your room?”


“And it’s not cleaned…. why?”

“I forgot.”

He closed his eyes, just for a second. “Have you remembered now?”

She pursed her lips,  shrugged.  “Maybe.” And disappeared back behind the door.

He walked away.  Daughters…. god’s way of saying you’ve lost all control of your life.

God bless, them.

23 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers 11-25-2017

  1. Beautiful story. My Father would have pulled my ears into that room, sit on a chair and watch me clean up. But my mom, that’s a different case altogether. She would do shake her head and then clean up the room, but I’ll be hearing this for a long time. She let me forget how I left my room for her to clean.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks. My Mom, too, would clean the room. She used to vacuum in the am, before I got out of bed:) Subtle hint, Mom. Dad would fuss about how irresponsible the mess was, but that would be about all. Then again, my room was never allowed to get that messy.


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