Trying To Prove…What?


Agnes watched as Henry continued digging up the backyard.
It was boiling hot outside and he had been going at it for over
an hour now.  She grimaced when she saw the untouched glass
of ice cold lemonade on the table. What was he trying to prove? That he was
still fit as a fiddle at his age? What good would that do her if he
were to keel over?

Sighing, she sat went back into the air conditioned house.
When he decided to call it a day and come inside, a nice hot meal
would be waiting for him.

Word count:  exactly, 100

This was written in response to This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt.  The photo is courtesy of Connie Gayer.

11 thoughts on “Trying To Prove…What?

      1. It’s only fair to warn you, Adele, that this is a most habit forming exercise in word conservation. I started 6 years ago and ended up leading the challenge. Not only have I found a great tool for my larger pieces but also a wonderful global community of friends.




      2. Yes, it is. And I’m glad you came up with this challenge. It will help writers like me who need to keep things concise. It’s not easy but that’s what being challenged is all about. And yes, being a part of WordPress has exposed me to remarkable people who share a love for writing and have inspired me.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. An apt description of someone who “just wants to get it done” to the exclusion of even realising the heat and his cool drink waiting for him. I hope he’s okay and gets to enjoy that hot meal in the air-conditioned house.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I know of people who spend hours in the yard and they are bone tired afterwards. It’s nice to get things done, but we have to learn to pace ourselves. Lets hope he’s not too tired to enjoy the hot meal or being in the air-conditioned home.

      Liked by 1 person

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