My 25-year vow of silence should have ended. I listened to the preacher drone on. My sentence was doubled to 50 years!
The wood pew was hard. I moved to let circulation back into my butt. Dad elbowed me and frowned.
This was worse than the Uranium mines on Pluto, aka elementary school!
The sermon entered its 4th, and, I hoped, final, decade. I yawned.
After ten more years of hanging by my thumbs, everyone said “Amen”. I shouted it.
Free at last!
I would call Josh and we’d play in the woods.
It was raining outside.
I hate Sundays!
Sorry, but I had to double dip. I was not satisfied with my first post. This is based on a character I’ve used a few dozen times, most notable in the story cycle Seasons of Imagination.
Word count = 100