“Seriously?” Dan said, pointing to the portrait lying on the floor of the demolished office. “You wanna take this junk home?” The long handle of his sledgehammer still resting on his right shoulder, the foreman of the construction team knelt down and examined the portrait, which appeared to be upside-down. It was an ordinary image of an ordinary street in an ordinary European city. “Jesus, it’s so faded you can’t see nothing unless you’re up close,” Dan called. “What you gonna do, hang this in your bathroom?”
Hank walked past Dan. “I’m taking the frame, dumbass,” he replied without looking.
I’m still focused on finishing several stories before the end of the year, so I haven’t been taking the time to blog. I can think of no better way to get back in the groove than to participate in Friday Fictioneers once again.