The Wharfie – Friday Fictioneers.

Henry clocked on, praying he’d get through the day without screwing up. Broke and dossing down on Steve’s couch, he couldn’t go outside without freaking out. The bitch was lurking on every corner. Nowhere was safe.

It was too soon, but Steve had got him the job. He was a union man. No questions asked, all his troubles slipped under the radar. Surely, it wouldn’t matter that he couldn’t pick red from green, or that he read things back to front…

Yet, even before his first smoko, he’d spotted the “Thomas” backpack lying by the wharf.

He didn’t even think.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

This has been another contribution to  Friday fictioneers, a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria.

xx Rowena

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “The Wharfie – Friday Fictioneers.

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