
“Hi, it’s me, you’ll never guess what.”
“What, Ethel.”
“You didn’t guess.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake! How can I guess if you don’t at least give me a clue?”
“I got something from Gene in the mail.”
“Gene’s dead.”
“I know Gene’s dead! But, I got a box from him.”
“He’s been gone for three years, so what’s in the box?”
“I think it’s Gene.”
“Open the box.”
“I’m afraid, can you come over?”
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
“Evans Funeral Home sent it, not Gene, Ethel.”
“Where should we scatter him?”
“His favorite place of course, Lottie’s Pub.”
✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻

Always fun when Rochelle chooses one of my photos for the prompt at FridayFictioneers. I took this when I was helping a friend move things to storage. It’s not Gene in the box, btw. To read other stories prompted by this image, click on the Frog…
Sounds like the perfect place to scatter his ashes! Good work Ted.
But downwind, I hope, so the ashes don’t go into the beer
Good job you are so talented. Poor Ethel I just need to know is Ethel a blonde? Just asking for a friend.’