Let the north wind point its ice-cold finger at me
I will go with the flow
My tender loving family wait at the end of the road
Home, where we feed on mother’s mince pies
No fancy frill, honest fare at mother’s table
Something to give our grateful gratitude for
The one silver lining that never tarnishes…
© anita dawes 2020
November 19: Flash Fiction Challenge
November 19, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that glorifies a toilet. Capture the marvel and status and love for a contraption we’d rather not mention.
I am old enough to remember sitting on an outdoor toilet, or privy as some people call them.
How dark it was in Winter, with spiders lurking, patiently waiting to drop on your head while you spent a penny.
If you go back far enough in time, hardly anyone had indoor plumbing. The age of an outdoor water pump and a tin bath in front of the fire. Just one bath full of warm water for everyone on the family to use.
I often used to wonder if the last person came out dirtier than when they went in!
© Jaye Marie 2020