Photo copyright Janet Webb
“Where d’ya think yer goin’, dressed like dat?” Daddy slurred from his chair, slinging back another finger of Jack. “You turnin’ inta a tramp, just like yer mama.”
Daddy’s been in the bottom of a bottle since Mama defected from the family three years ago. Every ounce of kindness in him has been pickled. But the familiar accusation stings more than usual tonight. I’d actually hoped he might smile like he used to and call me his little princess.
“It’s prom night, Daddy. We talked about this, remember? Right now, most fathers are telling their daughters how beautiful they look.”
Exactly 100 words for this week’s installment of Friday Fictioneers, the place where anyone is welcome to link up with his or her own little story spun from the photo prompt offered by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Posts I commented on today:
Tea–a haiku with photo (This, That and the Other Thing)
Who Does the Dress Belong To? (Short Stories and Random Thoughts) new blog of the day
Day 27, Monday: A Letter To My Readers (The Sock Zone) another new blog
Things I See and Know 