The next photo is the prompt. There’s much to look at. What do you see? Tell me in a hundred words or less. Then click the blue froggy guy after the prompt and link your story URL.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 99
When I was five my father opened our home to his widowed aunt.
“Why can’t Obasan live with her own children?” I whined and stamped my foot.
“Pikadon took them,” said Chichi. “We are her children now.”
“But she scares me.”
I soon saw past Obasan’s scarred face. Her stories delighted me. She taught me how to construct flapping birds and intricate shapes from colored paper.
One night she lay down to sleep and returned to the source.
Every year at O-Bon I honor her with mukae-bi, dance and sake.
Her elegant spirit surrounds me like a thousand winds.