Either Or

Family Tree

A party conducted itself with perfect gentility in the sprawling “old heap” while Edgar sat in the graveled parking lot piling stones. He tried to ignore the voices in his head. They sounded exactly like his parents.

“What should we do with him?”

“An institution?”

“His autism isn’t profound. Surely we can….”

“What? Keep him hidden? Too late for that.”

By the time the first guests came out, the Edgar’s pile of precariously balanced stones stood shoulder high.

The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Challenger (Hub): Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: Sandra Crook

Breadcrumbs: If you leave a link in my comments to the post where you rose to the challenge, then I will be sure to comment. If it’s hard to find you, I’ll assume you don’t want a visit

EXTRA

This one is strictly for those who have been reading my Fictioneers posts long enough and consistently enough to recognize the ongoing characters. It’s over 100 words. I don’t really expect you to bother with it.

One Artiste to Another

“Crud. Anita, come look at this. What is that crazy friend of yours doing in my garden?” Anita’s father pointed out the window of his elegantly appointed mansion to the garden far below.

“Don’t look at me. He’s not my friend.” Anita shrugged, though secretly she approved of the bit of stacking-stones performance art. The crude, naturalistic results of boulder on boulder gave an appealing whimsy to the otherwise too-strict household. “He came with Matt.”

Her father winced, but he didn’t go into the usual diatribe about her choice of companions. Or lifestyle. “Do something,” he growled. “Tell Matt to make him stop.”

“Yes, Sir.” As she turned away, she grinned, knowing what Matt would probably do.