Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, when writers from around the world post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. This week’s photo is by Björn Rudberg. Thank you, Björn!
by Jan Brown
We met at a Jimi Hendrix concert–they were playing “There Ain’t Nothing Wrong.” He said it was our song. But really, it was his. His refrain. His excuse.
He got high at work, got fired. He said, “There ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
Got a new job at the record store; cheated on me with the cashier. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
Crashed his VW bus into a tree with our sweet baby, Madeline, in it. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
Left his 28-day rehab program on day three. I didn’t take him back. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.
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