“Oh my God, Henry,” Charlotte said. “I send you out to the garage to get rid of all the junk in there so that both our cars can fit and then come out here to find this monstrosity in our backyard? What is wrong with you?”
“Monstrosity?” Henry objected. “This is a work of art, Charlotte. Look at it! It’s worthy of being displayed at the MOMA, for crissake.”
“I’ll not have your junk sculpture spoiling our backyard,” Charlotte said.
“Fine,” Henry said. “But if I move it back into the garage, there won’t be any room for your car.”
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. photo credit: Ted Strutz