People came for miles to photograph the monstrosity next door. “Local color,” they called it. “Eyesore,” she called it. Every day Ginny had to look out her window, admire the new fence Hank had put up, and guess how much more that barn was going to encroach on her hillside view.
A body just couldn’t keep the vines from coming over the pickets and strangling her flower beds. Come to think of it, there used to be a lot more space between their yard and the overgrowth. Ginny paused in her morning chores and tried to remember if the barn itself used to be quite so close. She stood on the step with her forehead wrinkled in concentration as a green tendril unfurled and looped around her ankle.
Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the Friday Fictioneers! Each Friday brings a new photo prompt and the challenge to write a story in just 100 words. Follow the group on FaceBook or via Twitter – #FridayFictioneers. Please visit more Fictioneers for some Friday Flash fun!