A Picnic: Fiction Friday

Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Copyright Madison Woods

Copyright Madison Woods

A Picnic

Lemonade and ice,” the ceramic pot said. “Maybe it’s a picnic.

Picnics!” the spigot said, “I hate ‘em. Kids always putting horrible stuff up my nose, dogs licking me in the face. Disgusting. I like it better on the top of the refrigerator, out of reach.

You just don’t like getting baths,” the handle teased. “Big baby.

Stop calling me a baby!” the spigot sputtered.

The ceramic pot countered, “I’m the one at risk here. One baseball in the gut and I’m a goner.

The lemonade, wondering how to get out of there, asked, “Can’t we all just get along?