“We have to jack up our house–the sinking House of Usher!” she yelled into the phone.
She listened to her mother lambaste Jim, her husband. So flaky. Can’t even buy a decent house. She’d heard it all before. Usually she added her own complaints. Hasn’t mowed the lawn in weeks.
She was about to complain about Jim’s cooking. Then she remembered last night, how hard he had made her laugh. His imitation of Trump!
“Oh, by the way–I saw dad yesterday at Al’s Bar. Has he told you yet that he lost his job?”
This is the Jan 6 edition of the Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo courtesy the Sandra Crook. To read more flash fiction inspired by the prompt, or to submit your own, click the blue froggy button: