The image for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge this week is below and from Andrew Neel@pexels.com.
It had been fifteen years since he’d last seen his family, but he hadn’t changed much.
He didn’t really care if they had, his concern was for his mother who had recently celebrated her 90th birthday and was in the throes of dementia, hence his return home.
His siblings had never had a lot of time for him, even as a child, so it came as no surprise when he struck out on his own, though he had kept in touch by phone and the occasional postcard from whatever country he was working in or visiting. As far as everyone knew, he had done very well for himself.
Perhaps not as well as the greedy swines were anticipating, but he was going to see his Mom, not them, and they could make of it what they liked.
He’d been very careful in his choice of clothing, deciding on what he had worn when he’d left that day all those years ago. The jacket still had the button missing on the sleeve that his mother had admonished him for not replacing and OK, it and the trousers were a bit short now, but he knew she would recognise him by his apparel at least.
To him, that was all that mattered.
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