I didn’t like our neighbor, he frightened me.
“Get to know him,” my Grandmother had advised me and that’s why I was standing here and watched this cruel man holding a tiny bird.
“I am feeding it to the cat,” he said and roared with laughter.
I hated being little and today I hated it more than ever.
“How did it go?” Granny asked me when we sat down for dinner.
“I will never like him,” I firmly announced.
“Grandma, can I please, not like him?”
She smiled, “I don’t like him either,” she said and then we ate.
Word count: 99
Friday Fictioneers are held by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Today’s photo brought back memories.