Unmovable

 

“She’ll never,” Howey said.

“Still, she might,” Ron argued.

Howey shook his head. No use arguing. Ron couldn’t see what he chose to ignore.

Much like Mom, Ron was, if less pessimistic. Though Howey did worry that Ron, too, would ossify with hardship and time.

“If we did all the chores, perhaps?” Ron offered.

“She’d see that as us doing our duty,” Howey noted.

Ron’s face fell. He so yearned to see the fair!

“Maybe if we patch that roof she’ll thaw a little,” Howey added, seeing his brother’s disappointment.

“Thaw who?” Mom thundered. “Wash up. We go to town!”

 

 

For Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © Jennifer Pendergast

 

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