NUMBER ONE - a story in 100 words.

NUMBER ONE

Sean took over the business from his father when he was twenty, after working his way up from sweeping the floor, so when the pandemic forced a shut-down he was devastated. No money coming in and rent still going out – a disaster.

As the rules slowly relaxed he bought masks and gloves, deep-cleaned the premises, posted a notice.

On The Big Day there was a long queue – his clients hadn’t deserted him after all. Unwilling to turn anyone away, he let them in four at a time, shampooed them quickly and sped along the line, giving every head a number one.

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I have literally no idea what Todd Foltz'a photo is, but to me it looks like a line of bald heads. Once that idea was in my mind, the rest was easy - possibly fuelled by the fact that today I made a hair appointmentfor the first time in months.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting us on her blog, https://rochellewisoff.com/

STRANGER IN TOWN - a story in a hundred words

STRANGER IN TOWN

The saloon sign creaked in the chilly wind and Brad succumbed to its invitation. A dozen men fell silent as he entered and ordered a beer.

“Friends in town?” the barman asked.

“No, just passing through.”

“You expected somewhere?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Storm coming – we’ve got beds. You can get a bath at the barber next door.”

“Guess I could use one,” Brad laughed, drained his glass and went to get cleaned up.

As the door shut behind him, the barman said, “Right – who’s first?”

“I’ll have six, Todd,” said the Sheriff, “Best pies in the county.”

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Friday Fictioneers' prompt this week was so bleak that it made me think of an empty town in the middle of nowhere, and as I know nothing about boxing, I let my mind wander. Hope you like what I came up with.

Thanks as ever to Rochelle for hosting FF on her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  and to J Hardy Carroll for the pictorial prompt that inspired us this week.

My alternative thought was to write about the snow we have around our village in the south of England, but that would have involved me posting a picture of the massive bruise I acquired when walking 'off-piste' in search of my own photo opportunity - not a pretty sight! - so here's the photo I took when I'd picked myself up.

AND - for any of my readers who weren't brought up in England, or who have never encountered the wonders of theatrical melodrama, here's a clue to the story behind my story.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sweeney_Todd