I am about 36 hours away from boarding a chartered bus for a 14 hour ride to the 2nd largest city in America, and if my Kindle will work with the Wi-Fi on the bus I plan to read all of this week’s FriFic, plus the ones I didn’t get last week and maybe even the week before. I enjoy reading everyone’s, but sometimes the week slips away before I get through all 100 or so. But we should celebrate that huh? One hundred kindred souls collected to entertain the masses. I wonder how many visitors the kind Rochelle has to FriFic each week. Any way, here is my turn for Friday the 13th.
The fellow in the olive green uniform didn’t turn when Farmer John approached on his Gator. His lack of interest did not help Farmer John’s mood. He did not like trespassers.
“Stump inspector!” the man barked.
“Stump . . . Inspector,” he said slower, as if Farmer John was an imbecile.
“Heard ya, just don’t make sense!”
“New ordinance,” inspector shook a paper at him. “No stump can be cut at less than 43 degrees. This is 36. Gonna cost you!”
Farmer John studied the citation as the inspector walked away.
“Five hundred dollars! Damn Democrats!”