“Hey…psst…hey, where do you think they are? They are never this late. I was told they love us.”
The tall shiny silver jar cleared his throat and looked down imperiously. He said, “You new?”
The little white cup gulped, his throat suddenly dry, and nodded.
“Well use your ears, lad.”
Confused, the white cup opened up his ears. He could hear sirens, blasts…distant cries. Shivering he moved closer to the short and stout silver pot for its warmth. “What’s happening?”
Shiny sighed. “They are fighting, again. Don’t worry lad. They’ll come to their senses soon enough.”
Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The idea is to write a 100-word story on a photo prompt. You can read the other stories here.
tales of Suchita 
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