The whole city seems to be on its feet; they are celebrating their victory. People are dancing in the street, I can hear music and laughter. The party will continue until early in the morning. I know, I have witnessed it before.
And here I am, sitting in the dark, as I watch the firework from my room. I don’t feel like celebrating, my heart is heavy. I am not from here; I am not one of them.
They won the title, my team lost. I shut the door, close the curtains and suffer in silence.
“Stupid sport,” I mumble.
(Word count: 100)
This is my entry to this week’s Friday Fictioneers 100-word challenge. I couldn’t help it; Football season will start this weekend and for the next months I will watch my husband suffer with his team every Sunday. The whole concept is lost on me, but it doesn’t look appealing (at all).
Today I borrowed Rochelle’s welcome picture, because she explains the challenge so much better than I ever could. (I hope using the picture was alright.)
Click >>>here<<< and check out the other entries and Rochelle’s blog. It is so much fun.
MAKE . EVERY . WORD . COUNT .