Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful Rochelle, the undisputed master of what I call Sound Bite Fiction.
She sets the weekly challenge, and the standard.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by the inimitable Sandra Crook, Fictioneer sans pareil.
Whose garden looks like it needs some work.
The idea, as always, is to write a story of around 100 words based on this picture, below.
© Sandra Crooks
Click here to hear the writer read his words:
The Fence
I have climbed the fence a thousand times before.
Today my boot catches the top rail.
I topple over.
I hunch my shoulders, and my curved back, not my head, hits the tree.
My grandson, seven years old, crouches, concern on his face.
I am badly winded, but apparently unhurt.
The following day we reach the same spot.
We can walk round, he says.
No, I grin, I have a plan.
What’s that, he asks, dubiously.
He knows me too well.
I won’t fall today, I laugh.
He grins back.
Okay, he says, but let’s move away from the tree!
I love their relationship. Beautifully told.
The bond between them is so beautifully potrayed. Loved this one😊
I love reading this bond in action.
Les petits fils sont parfois plus sages que leurs grands pères !
Ha ha ha, he knows his imp of a grandpa too well.
This is charming with a very savvy grandson.
Loved that you climbed the fence. Trees can talk you know. Perhaps it told your grandson, move him away for my sake.
This is wonderful… and I love the concern the grandson has for the tree.
A beautifully written story.
Haha If only he’d had that plan sooner.
Nice grandpa moment. Kids always catch us when we’re at our worst! Very endearing.
I love the way grandad and grandson interact in this story. A tender tale, tenderly told (can I really be writing this of CE Ayr?) 😉
Kids seem to be so much smarter than adults these days.
Lovely, vivid little snapshot. Really enjoyed reading this.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
Such a lovely lad. Did you model him on your grandson?
Hope the stacks don’t crumble.
A slice of life. Well done.
This sounds like a very tender moment – a harbinger of the inevitable role reversal to come. You surpassed yourself this week.
And it’s not my garden it was a nature reserve near Nottingham. Altruistic though I may be, I draw the line at fostering insects.
A sensible plan. I do hope he succeeds this time!
Sounds like the grandson knows that all plans need a plan B