Prompt courtesy of Friday Fictoneers & Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Follow the link to see the picture and read a whole bunch of other tales.
They stopped to gas up and eat.
“Go on inside,” Owl’s mother said. “I need something in my suitcase.”
Owl shook his head, walked in the restaurant and sat near the far window. His mother arrived, fifteen minutes later, smiling and straightening her dress. Uncle Steve came in behind her, looking flushed.
“The cottage is great,” Steve said, trying to sound comfortable. “You can fish and swim and hike.”
Owl nodded absently. Their breakfast arrived. The lid fell off the shaker and covered Steve’s eggs in a mountain of salt.
“You selfish little shit,” his mother said. “You think that’s funny?”