It wasn’t easy, keeping the inner and outer skins together.
When the cracks appeared, we’d try to patch them together, shore up the damage. Sometimes it worked, other times not, and in a certain light, at certain times… yeah, it appeared almost ugly.
One day, after a prolonged spell of frighteningly stormy weather, we rocked up to find there was only a stark shell of the past remaining.
We poked through the ruins, talked each other up, considered rebuilding, but we soon realized there wasn’t enough left even for the foundations.
No shame, no blame.
No preventative maintenance either.
Late for the Friday Fictioneer feast, for me anyway. Our illustrious leader, Rochelle Wisoff Fields is however, always perfectly on time. Thank you, Rochelle.