Photo prompt: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“He’s gonna do WHAT?!!”
Oh oh, never should have said nothing. I swallowed and inspected my sneakers. Found a stain. Hopefully mustard.
Mom grabbed my shoulder.
“Marcus Anthony Jeremiah Rivera, what did you just say your brother was up to?”
Her face told me it’d be as bad for the messenger if I didn’t confess. I was toast. Benito was gonna beat me up soon as she was done with him.
“See those towers?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Benito saw a big rope between them and he said it’s perfect for zip-lining.”
Way Mom ran, she should’a been in the Olympics.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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