Who are these humans milling about My Lady’s yard? And why are they touching her things?
Someone picks up my favorite treasure—My Lady’s mirror! The one that once hung in her hallway, where every morning, she’d lean in to put lipstick on before leashing me for our walk. What lipstick had to do with walking, I’ll never know. But I loved our walks. And My Lady. And her mirror.
I growl at the human studying it with smelly hands.
“Harold! Stop!” The Daughter snaps my nose—the very spot where My Lady’s red lips once kissed me.
Friday Fictioneers is a compilation of writers from around the world who gather online weekly, guided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge? To write a story in 100 words or less based on a new photo prompt.
To read more stories in an online flash fiction anthology by Friday Fictioneer authors, click: