Flash Fiction Friday: Houses

I sit criss-cross applesauce and look up at my house.

Mommy is working and I have to wait for her to come back.

I pick at the lint on my pants. Waiting is hard. I don’t like to wait. Especially when I’m hungry.

Maybe she won’t know if I don’t wait.

With a glance around, I stand and walk to my house. I bend and take a bite out of the side. My teeth sink into soft graham and sweet icing.

I’m glad I didn’t wait. Then I pull a gumdrop from my gingerbread house and begin to eat.

@Laura L. Zimmerman 2016

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Photo credit Unsplash Andrew Branch

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