I don’t know, Barbecue. We used to be the center of entertainment. They cooked meat and roasted corn on you, and splashed fingers and sailed little boats on me. They had picnics. They enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air. They laughed, and talked, and joked, and played out here.
Now, the few times I see a person, they carry something in their hand that glows. I hear them complain, “There’s no bars out here!”
I fear we’ve been abandoned. Now they’re trapped inside, not merely the house but their heads also. It’s not healthy!
Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.