I’m coming a little late to this week’s Friday Fictioneers party, but I am trying to get back into the weekly routine. If you are unfamiliar with this weekly writing challenge, you can learn more over on Rochelle’s blog. Incidentally, the picture this week is one of hers. To play along or read other entries, click here. My story, one word shy of 100 this week, follows the photo prompt.
On the Spot
Leah sighed almost imperceptibly as Jill arranged the board on the table. The Ungame. Her mother-in-law’s way of forcing intimate conversation. Leah hated it.
“Your turn, Honey,” Leah’s husband prodded.
She rolled the dice and counted the spaces around a board with no beginning or ending point.
“Tell it like it is.” Reading the square where she had landed, Leah drew the appropriate card. “What is your worst fear?”
“C’mon, Honey. We won’t judge.”
The faces around the table stared at her—pairs of eyes gazing at her like sets of oncoming . . .
“Headlights,” Leah blurted. “I’m petrified of them.”
Although my story this week is pure fiction, I personally share Leah’s disdain for The Ungame. However, I know some of my readers enjoy it, and you can learn more about this cruel social experiment here.