This soil is dry as hell. They say it’s been the worst drought so far. Who are they? I don’t know. All I know is no grass nor plants will grow in my backyard nor anywhere, no matter how much water I dump in the ground.
Yesterday, a notice was taped at my door. “Please limit your watering days to one day a week.”
One day a week? Why water at all?! “Pssh,” I was about to crumble the paper and throw it away when a gentleman come running up to me.
“Excuse me, ma’am, I have a proposal.”
(100 words)
This story was originally posted on November 5, 2015.
Written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple, where we are given a photo prompt and we are to write a story in 100 words or less.
Intriguing ending
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Thank you.
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You’re welcome
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