(Author’s note: Sorry for the lateness, folks. But this is what happens when you start working at 6A-2:30P shift. You don’t get to stay up and be #1 on the list. That’s okay, though. Y’all still get me anyways. Enjoy today’s fictioneers, while I get back to finding a new place to live.)
My Father In Me
by Miles H. Rost
“Once we get these raspberries up on wires…” I started to say.
“…we get to working on moving the lemon verbena out of the corner. It’s annoying,” Dad replied.
“I just thought that. I really don’t like that shrub. But that leaves room for the quince, right?”
“There’s no quince over there.”
“But the leaves popping up over there are clearly quince.”
“Really? Let’s go look…”
We walked over to the corner of the yard. Kneeling down, he took up the stem and leaves.
“Well, son, that is definitely a quince.”
“I know. I picked up on it from you.”