Me. You. Coffee.

And so it came to pass that my antipodean friend (and yours), Jessie Ansons, challenged me via Twitter to reply to her groovy slice of Friday Fiction (which you can, and should, read here). So, because I don’t like shirking a challenge (and because I was scared she’d call me names if I didn’t) I did. Here goes.

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Unbelievable Stories

I’ve been teasing the boy since the day he was born.
His father, my son, thought it was funny, though torn,
‘coz his Mrs, you see, was ne’er fond of a laugh;
spending her days with a stick up her…

ahem

So when he was older, around eight or nine,
I told him a story of these fingers of mine.
The old maze out the back was the perfect of hooks,
and as the story unfolded he gave me a look.

Of fear
Of amazement
Of sadness.
Despair.

But worth it for the cuddle in this comfy old chair.

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Catch up with the rest of the Friday Fiction stories over at Rochelle’s blog. 1 photo. 100 words. Endless possibilities.