Last week’s story seemed to stir a lot of emotions and sympathy. I hope the Fictioneers are as kind and generous in person as they are too my little stories – thank you all! This week, I’ve gone a different way and I anticipate a lot less sympathy for my narrator. He’s a product of his upbringing, but that doesn’t make him right.
I welcome your comments and critique: good or bad.
This week’s photograph comes from Sandra Crook.
A big family fits together over the years, tessellating like triangles and hexagons, so newcomers always have a tough time fitting in. You can’t just add a square without putting some corners out of joint. Shelley was in love: she thought we’d all love Johnny too. But Mum and Dad struggled to lose their princess to anyone, and the last thing we needed was another brother, even one –in-law.
Then Bradley introduced his own deviation to the mix and Johnny seemed homogenous beside Elliot. None of us had ever worn tight pink t-shirts and hot pants, not even the girls.