Mom took the chicken out of the basket and put it on the picnic table. Bro ate it up. She pulled out the watermelon, potato salad, biscuit’s and gravy, and coleslaw. Bro grabbed his before anyone else.
“It’s called Goblin Valley because of the rocks. Not because that’s what you’re supposed to do,” said Sis.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
Goblin Valley is a real place. If you look close at the picture, you’ll see some umbrellas. They are over picnic tables.
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