100-word Flash Fiction
This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Esther stopped at the foot of the stairs and thumped her cane on the concrete.
“What the hell am I doing?” Her voice grated in unison with the rusty gate.
She stopped again on the top landing and wheezed a long breath.
“Fifty-three years,” she muttered.
In the doorway across the little alley, a chrome walker appeared in the doorway pushed by a hunched man in a gray tattered sweater and plaid slippers.
“Well, gosh damn.” He squinted. “Esther? Is that you?”
“Still living in a dump, I see.”
“And you haven’t changed a bit, sis.”
“Nor you, brother.”