Sandy and Mandy were identical twins. Green-eyed beauties with dark brown hair, a smattering of freckles, and charming dispositions. From the day of their birth, mom had dressed them in identical outfits. When they started school, she bought them identical backpacks, and pulled their hair into identical pony tails.
She bragged to everyone about how “exactly alike” they were and insisted they do identical chores and play identical games at the same time. She sent them to Gramma’s farm together every year.
And every year, wearing blue jeans faded to exactly the same shade, with pony tails riding at exactly the same height and identical green eyes gazing into the peaceful pond at exactly the same time, they stood on the old wooden bridge and dreamed — totally separate, independent dreams.
And Mom couldn’t do anything about it
Friday Fictioneers, for those who are not aware, is a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog. She gives us a picture prompt each week, and challenges us to write a 100-word story based on that picture. It’s great discipline and lots of fun. So if you’d like to join in, just follow the link to her site for the details.
This week’s picture prompt is courtesy of Dawn Q. Landau. My story is below the picture.
Hair bristled on my neck. I was bein’ followed. I whirled ’round and found Zanzibar ploddin’ behind me, head down, tail draggin’.
“Hey, boy,” I said, squattin’ down. “Where’s ol’ Toby?”
Zanzibar whined, licked my hand, whined again. Somethin’ was wrong. Zanzibar and Toby were thicker’n fam’ly. They came through here first week of ever month. Stayed ’till the coal train came through and stopped at the crossin’. But this weren’t the first week. Where was that ol’ hobo?
I hunted three days for Toby; no luck. Reckon that lung problem finally got ‘im. Zanzibar’s tail’s still draggin’, and he won’t let me out of ‘is sight. Reckon I got me a dog.
I’m still a kid at heart.