I was cruising in Glacier Bay, Alaska last week, so I missed the usual Friday Fictioneers exercise. But I'm back, and now I can't resist the photo prompt, so I will write it late. If you enjoy reading the many, various ways people can approach the same stimulus as much as I do, go to Madison Woods' blog here and check out the responses.
To Friday Fictioneers who drop by later than late: I'd appreciate any constructive criticism on my 100 word piece. The photo is by Amanda Gray and is called "Outside Pecos."
We barely survived, Ricky and me. When I drank the last drop of water he shouted, "Lupe, no!" We believed in the mirage of a tiny rectangle on the endless plains and we dragged ourselves here. Behind the abandoned adobe hunkered a well with a pump. Ricky jacked out water into his hat and we drank, laughed, poured it over our heads and down our backs. And inside the house, the mud bricks sheltered us from the sun with their thick, earthy power. But now, Ricky wants to go on. Why can't we stay, make the power of the adobe our own?
