We used to sit side by side in our rocking chairs, swaying like a couple of metronomes. Then one day one of my rockers snapped off. I said she should snap off one of hers, after all, we did everything together like sets of dentures or buttock cheeks. She refused. Backwards and forwards she went while I sat motionless.
The next day I spotted a fallen branch in the park. It may have been a root, but whatever. ‘I could fashion a new rocker from part of that’ I said. ‘Good idea’ she said, so I did. In no time at all, we were rocking together again, although it has to be said my swaying was a little uncomfortable thanks to the lumps and bumps on the piece of dead wood twixt my posterior and the floor. So it came as something of a relief when one evening a rocker ‘unexpectedly’ broke off her chair. Unfortunately, she went hurtling backwards, bashing her head on my favourite bottle of whisky. Thankfully it didn’t smash.
Now we sit perfectly still like a couple of bookends or a pair of old slippers. And the best bit? We no longer keep slopping our wine!
200 words precisely!
Sunday Photo Fiction is hosted by Susan Spaulding. Thanks go to Fandango for the photo.