“Well, that’s not too bad,” Irvin scratched his chin. The scruffy look added credibility, but the cost in itchiness was high.
Darwin nodded. Looked bad to him, but he wasn’t gonna say nothing. He always ended up sounding stupid and he’d heard enough evolution jokes. Thank you Mom and Dad.
“You get the rake and the bin. Start scraping,” Irvin ordered. “I’ll go check the inside.”
Awning roof sure slants funny, Darwin thought, but didn’t say. Just made sure he was on the far side of the van when the corrugated metal screeched.
Survival of the fittest and all that.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
(Photo prompt © Sandra Crook)
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