Rebekah Postupak
* Word limit: 150 word story (a leaping 5-word leeway) based on the photo prompt.
"Wyndal! Would ya look at that!" "See I told ya! Every year! It's the same damn thing! Those big rigs pull into town, bringing their grubby things and their grubbier food! People comin; from God knows where, women half; naked! Kids yellin', and the men! Don't even get me started on the men. Most; without even two knickels to rub together. I mean, God Almighty, why a strong wind coulda blown that kid clean outta sight."
He looks over to Wyndal. "Wyndal? You listenin to me!?"
Wendell's unintelligible mumble around a mouthful of food, accompanies an offhanded gesture with his fork. All the while, nodding his head, before refocusing on the sampling of the bazaar's offerings.
"Is that slop, really that good? His stomach rumbles loudly, and he begins patting his pockets. Before, sheepishly turning to Wendell. "Mind lendin me a couple bucks, figure I might as well try one a dem plates."
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