Madison Woods’ Friday Fictioneers asks us to write a 100-word story in response to a prompt. Here’s this week’s prompt, and my story:
It lies underwater like butterfly wings, pure and empty.
“Mom, a shell! Maybe there’s pearls.” Short fingers hold up a white pebble. “I got a pearl! Bet I can get more pearls than anybody.”
“No, I’m gonna get all the pearls!”
I sit on the faded towel staring at the waves. Wrong. Be responsible. Watch the kids. Somebody has to be responsible.
Jake flops next to me. With eight years’ wisdom, he announces, “They think those stones are pearls. And they aren’t. And they want to take all the stones home with us.”
“I know. It’s all right.” I close my eyes; my heart floats empty as the shell.