Friday Fictioneers is here again. 100 words – full story – based on photo prompt. Run by Rochelle.
When was growing up, I was fortunate enough to know 5 of my great grandparents, the last one passing when I was about 16. Mom’s grandparents (4) were from Kentucky and we would visit them a few times a year. One of them lived very high up in the mountains, used 2 horses or mules to pull his plow to plant and harvest his small tobacco field. He would also milk his cow every day. The story below is not fully true, but did come from some memories and fears combined when I was young. Enjoy!
Photo provided by PHOTO PROMPT © What’s His Name
Well, Crap
Little Timmy walked the poorly-lit path toward the outhouse of his great grandparents. The weeds were taller than Timmy and he could no longer see the house when he glanced back. He heard the large bumble bees on the weeds. The 25 yard trek seemed to take forever.
Finally arriving, Timmy settled in and prepared to sit over the pitch-colored hole. A noise got his attention and he looked in the dark corner at a five-foot rattlesnake on the floor of the small building. Tommy made it back to the house before realizing his pants were still in the outhouse.
Word Count: 100
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Namaste,
Scott
Kindredspirit23's Blog 