“It doesn’t matter what it looks like on the outside …”
“Yea,” Elianna intoned, “it’s what on the inside that matters.”
“Exactly,” Jennifer winked. To be easily discouraged was a privilege of the young. Something time cured. Or tanned into tough old leather. She chuckled.
“What?” Elianna sounded wounded.
“I was laughing at myself, Eli.” Jennifer tested the length of her chains. Sink to bed to door. “We can do not a thing about that horrid gate or those who guard it, but let’s put some elbow grease into this door and make our inside view a good deal better.”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt © Brenda Cox
Na'ama Yehuda 
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