This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. What popped into my mind when I said the word “rust” to myself was “Rust Never Sleeps” by Neil Young, so I had to go with it.
“This is art? No, this is weird.” Annika grumbled.
“Yes and no. I rather like it.”
“You do? I don’t understand. It’s crap if you ask me. No pun intended.”
“Ha ha. It’s a metaphor on life.”
“Yeah. You know. Amidst aging and decay we can still find beauty. We have to keep growing and blooming. Everything constantly changes.”
“But flowers in a toilet? Come on!”
“It expresses what the artist was thinking. We shouldn’t judge. He wants us to think about it.”
Finally Blaine exclaimed, “And, if we can’t find beauty, we have to plant it?”
Fiona always thought Ian McDougall was a little paranoid, if not a bit crazy too. He took her teasing in fun, but something happened when he was a kid. Something big. Something he still won’t discuss.
All she knew was it had something to do with power and darkness. His stash of flashlights, batteries, candles, canned food, and gasoline for the generator, and other emergency items took up the entire space in what used to be the cold room in the basement of their farmhouse.
But now he kept dead batteries. Stashed in a jar. In the special basement cupboard.
Disclaimer: I haven’t tried any of these things, but I felt just a little obligation to try and defend Ian.😉