Sunday Photo Fiction — Rust

“It’s only been, what, three years since they painted the lighthouse,” George said, the annoyance in his voice clearly apparent.

“Yeah, boss,” responded Jimmy, who was standing next to George. “It was last done in the fall of 2014, according to the records we pulled yesterday.”

“Goddammit,” George said. “Gimme those binoculars, Jimmy.” George peered through the binoculars Jimmy handed him. He focused on the numerous, large, vertical rust stains all around the top of the structure.


“That sonabitch contractor fucked us over,” George’s annoyance having morphed into rage.

“So whaddya wanna do boss?” Jimmy asked. “Want me to round up some of the guys and go pound the snot outta him?”

“That muthafucka guaranteed that the paint job would last ten years,” George said. We paid a huge goddam premium for what he said was weather resistant, rust proof paint. Now look at all that rust up there.”

“Yeah, boss,” Jimmy said. “I remember that guy sayin’ that. So whaddya want to do, boss?”

“I’m gonna call my sister,” George said, picking up his cell phone, so upset that his hand was shaking. “Dammit, Sis,” he screamed into the phone. “Your lame ass husband screwed me over yet again!”

(200 words)

Written for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: A Mixed Bag.

Rhymes with…


“Here,” she said as she pushed a can of Pledge and a cloth toward him. Pointing to the shelves on which they kept their nick nacks, she ordered, “Go dust.”

He looked at her with disgust.

“And when you’re done with that,” she continued, “grab the wire brush and from the patio table and chairs remove all the rust.”

This whole day, he thought, will be a bust.

“And the dryer is out of balance. Its feet you need to adjust.”

With a sense of resignation, he sighed, “Fine. But as a reward, can you please whip up your famous pecan pie with a graham cracker crust?”

“I would,” she said, “but you know your need to lose weight is something we’ve already discussed.”

“This is so unjust,” he fussed.

She looked at him with distrust. “But these chores are a must,” she said.

And so into his chores himself he thrust, yearning the whole time for his days as a bachelor with lust.

Today’s one-Word prompt is “Lust.”