I was late picking up my new out-door enthusiast girlfriend to take to dinner at my parents and never noticed something on the front of her wool jacket, but my mother did. On the way home I asked what the small opaque disks were.
“Oh dear, they’re fish scales. I helped Dad clean the fish we had for breakfast.”
“I want my parents to welcome you back if you’ll go with me again, please be more careful.”
“I’ll do that but you should know welcoming a red-neck like me and accepting me is two different things in my book.”
Written in response to Charli Mills April 26, 2018, prompt from Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a fish tale. It can be about fishing from any angle, about those who fish, or what might be caught. Go where the prompt leads.
April 26: Flash Fiction Challenge
04/28/2018 at 20:34
Hmmm….anyone who can’t forgive a few fish scales must be shallow…or a few dog hairs..or cat hairs… 🙂
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04/29/2018 at 00:25
Thanks for the chuckle….I have lots of cat hairs now.
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05/01/2018 at 04:35
An interesting thought, Susan. I think she is right.
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05/03/2018 at 01:38
My cat would like the fish scales, I think! That’s a great detail that hinges your two characters in this story.
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