“Where are we heading again?” Haylie asked, carrying a cooler full of ice and bait. Harry pointed to the lone chair in the middle of the lake. Haylie sputtered a laugh, “You’re kidding, right?”
Harry turned, “Do I look like I’m kidding? It’s my grandpa’s favorite spot to fish. He’d always catch something decent here. Now come on.”
“But it’s in the middle of the lake, how are we supposed to get there?”
“We walk, duh.”
“What are you, Jesus?” Haylie said.
“What?” Harry replied, confused. “No, there’s a bridge to the middle. It just got flooded. Now come on.”
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.