(Fiction; 100 words)
The boy bounced and strained against the belt.
“Settle down, Precious. You mustn’t appear overactive.” His guardian, a middle-aged woman with deep wrinkles and a permanent odor of smoke, checked her watch again. “They could decide they don’t want you and then what? All that wasted time and effort.”
He grimaced at the window. She reminded him of Gollum when she called him Precious.
He wasn’t the first. There were others before him. She’d called them Precious and doled out bigger servings at mealtimes. When their clothes fit instead of hanging off thin frames, she took them away.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The above is my 99-word fictional story. Each week, writers are offered a photo prompt, from which we are challenged to write a complete story, in 100 words or less. Then we post, share, comment and critique with dozens of other writers. Click the blue frog button to find more stories, and join in!