Fixer Upper

Photo prompt: © Penny Gadd

 

“It that better?”

“No! You made it worse!”

“Sorry. What direction?”

“To the right! No, the left. I mean, to my right, not your right! There. No! Stop! You over did it. Now it’s worse again.”

“Fine. I’ll go slowly. Tell me when.”

“When. I mean, not yet. Stop! No, a little more.”

“Are you sure it isn’t straight? You’re a little lopsided yourself. Have a sip of water, maybe.”

“I’m fine. Stop micromanaging me. I’m concentrating. Shush and let me see …”

“Go ahead. Take your time. Don’t mind me. I’ll just perch here and twiddle my vines.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

Cake To Go

three line tales, week 170: an unhappy birthday party

Photo via Unsplash

 

She spaced the candles as her grandmother had instructed. Not equally, but with one candle lording over a bigger chunk. “You’ll remember me by it,” Gran had said, “and by the sour faces of the ladies when they see you’d saved me some cake to go.”

 

For Three Line Tales #170