The orcas painted on the side of the building were spectacular.
‘You have to move out of the bulldozer’s way.’
‘No, Dad. No!’
I’d seen someone pull that face before. Back in 1977.
Eventually, I convinced her to come with me to her mother’s favourite place. The bluff overlooking the ocean.
Out to sea, black dorsal fins skimmed the surface. I wasn’t sure she’d noticed. But then she looked at me, her face softened and she snuggled in close.
The real battle had already been won. Back in 1977. On a zodiac 30 miles out to sea.Follow @jessieansons
Friday Fictioneers is a challenge set by Rochelle each week where writers from around the world post 100 word stories based on a common photo prompt. For more information, and to read other stories, visit Rochelle’s page here.