Another installment of Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. 100 words or so based on the image below.Gone Fly Fishing
Everything in our small world was so perfect that day. Hills, dotted with wild dogwoods and magnolias, sloped along the creek. Spanish moss hung low from the oak trees.
I was with my little boy. We parked the car at the side of the road and gathered our fishing poles and the fly lures we’d made.
“Why is that bunny dead on the side of the road, daddy?” My son pointed to the ground.
I looked down to behold something I couldn’t define. “I suppose he didn’t look both ways.”
We continued on our way without a funeral.
photo Copyright-Kent Bonham