Every Friday writers from near and far are challenged to create a 100 word fiction story from a photo prompt. If you’d like to join in the fun, get all the details here: Friday Fictioneers. Click the frog at the end of my post to see other stories from this week’s challenge and to add your own.
He had lived on their periphery long enough and they were well aware that he required starkness, sameness. Neutrality kept his mind quiet and them safe. They knew this. It must have been her, in 1B. The one who greeted him with bigger volume and enthusiasm everytime they passed in the hall, convincing herself that he just hadn’t heard her the last 10 times. It had to be her. Her blood red buds were creating a cacophony in his head, just like she did, and they tore a hole in the beautiful gray tapestry of his courtyard. What to do about her?