He sat by the window, his usual spot, watching the newly blossomed azaleas in the garden, while the nurse put a napkin around his neck. The weather was changing; soon the garden would be full of flowers. Even the weeds held a wild charm, he mused.
The bland taste of porridge brought him back to the table. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he stared at the tray holding sugar. The nurse reluctantly reached for the jar.
I can bet 100$ she will make it saccharine sweet now. He closed his eyes as the nurse poured dollops of sugar in the porridge.
100 words for this week’s Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle.
This was a tough prompt, made me think hard! Good start Rochelle!
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