“You’ll have to climb up there to fix it,” Shelly’s voice made clear he did not think the climbing or the fixing would do any good.
Bertie sighed. It was none of it ever simple. Not with Shelly. Not with him.
Mama prophesied it when his brother was born wrinkled, whimpering, and without a dad.
“You’ll have to watch out for him,” she’d announced to four-year-old Bertie. “You’re his older brother now.”
Then mama, too, was gone, and left them with their uncle and their scowling aunt, who did not need two more butts to wipe or wallop, and Bertie had his work cut out for him. Then, and now.
Shelly couldn’t help being pessimistic. At least Bertie had had some years of motherly love.
“It’ll work,” Bertie promised, climbed.
The windmill spun. Lights came on. Then the new cable caught and tore and they were back to square one.
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge
Na'ama Yehuda 
Oh, and back we go… Nicely done.
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yeah … back we go … poor guys …
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Like the way you’ve fed the back story into the mending of the ‘generator’
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Thanks, Crispina. People always have a back story, don’t they? 🙂
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Indeed they do. Ineed
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🙂
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oops. Indeed
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also always in-need (ineed), so that worked, too 🙂
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Ah, yes. An inspired typo
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🙂 them often are!
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🙂
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Ach. You. So good at creating this little stories with so much in so little. Beautifully done.
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Ach, You. So good at giving me compliments that make me blush and go, ach, you! 🙂 THANK YOU!
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You are just so darn good, what can I say? xoxo
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xoxo 😀
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xoxo
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