Another week is ending and I am ready. Nary a word written this week nor desire to do so. An eye hemorrhage has hammered my week, both worrying, hurting and depressing my days. I think the eye is on the mend, and I want to write some lines...so Friday Fictioneers picture prompt is just the thing. I think I can do 100 words this morning. For more short readings and rules to play, visit: http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/01/16/18-january-2013/
A nice welcome to new followers Sandy!
Now for the story....picture below.
Mickey Shannon could smell the mash on his hands and urged the red handled pump to bring up fresh water for washing behind the farmhouse. He looked back into the woods: no tell-tell path pointed to the still.
Before he opened the screen door, the boiling cabbage smell greeted him. He would have supper with the lusty cook before heading back into town. O’Rourke felt safe having him working for the gang, thinking him 100% Irish. Mickey thought of the candelabra hidden at home in his closet. The golden menorah would remain a secret like the woman and the still.