Friday Fictioneers: Not an Excuse


My jaw dropped at the mess that was once my luscious garden. What happened? I’ve only been gone two weeks. How did my once weed-free lush green lively garden ended up like this?

“I’m very sorry,” my aunt said apologetically, “I was too busy taking care of my garden to tend to yours.”

That’s no excuse, I wanted to scream but instead, I sighed and silently cursed my inability to unleash my wrath on others. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of it.” I said and started pulling weeds while muttering curses. Damn you for being so nice. Damn Damn Damn

(100 words)

For Friday Fictioneers

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27 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Not an Excuse

      1. I’ll be gone next week for 2 weeks, so my garden will be in the hands of my aunt. She killed a tray of seedlings when I went to the UK in May, so, it’s hard to say.

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  1. I hope she’s able to vent her anger. Too much of that bottled up inside isn’t healthy. It’s nice that she doesn’t yell at her auntie, although the excuse offered for Auntie’s neglect would make the most patient relative explode.

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  2. This reminded me of the times while walking the grocery store aisles and someone crashes their metal shopping cart into the back of my heel. They offer a wimpy “So sorry” and I wimp back “Oh it’s ok”. NO! It’s not ok. I’m bleeding and it hurts like hell!” Damn! Damn! Damn!

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