“Oh, no. No, no.” She moves the dish soap to the right. Hand soap shifts left. Lotion next. Sanitizer last. They’re lined up by height, labels facing out. She makes an adjustment here, a shift there.
One at a time.
Left to right, tallest to smallest.
“This doesn’t go here.” She picks up an anti-bacterial soap. Her head snaps in my direction. “Where did this come from?”
“Lisa.” I hold out my hand. “I’ll take it. Mom, we’ve gotta go. Your appointment’s in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, let me straighten up.” She turns back to the sink.
This is my 99-word story for this week’s installment of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. She hosts a weekly flash fiction challenge with a photo prompt and a 100-word limit. Check it out and join the fun!
As always, happy trails!