This is my second attempt at a Friday Fictioneers story, spurred on by supportive comments from Rochelle and Shaneice (thank you). I’ve kept it simple and stayed well under 100 words. I hope the point of the story will come across whether it’s read with American pronunciation or British. I’m sorry if it doesn’t.
The photo prompt was kindly provided by Connie Gayer.
Word count: 70
Title: You say potato …
‘Aw, Dad. It still hasn’t grown. I’ll never get to impress Grandpa.’
‘What’re you trying to grow, son?’
‘A dahlia. Grandpa loves ‘em. He said they grow from tubes.’
‘Tubers … they grow from tubers.’
‘Come on, let’s go the store, pick some up.’
‘Some? Aren’t they expensive, Dad?’
‘Worth it to impress Grandpa though.’
‘OK, thanks Dad. When we’ve bought the tubas, can I look at the guitars?’