PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
Once upon a time there was a Scottish boy who bounced around with his folks, an English boy abandoned by his teenage mother, and a London boy who started out by banging on noisy pieces of war rubble after his dad was blown up.
The rough-hewn lads were looked at as freak losers by many. Outcast, reject, and orphan, they knew they didn’t fit in. Only later they’d understand why that’s ok.
The forces of the universe often converge in such a way that there is no ignoring the hand of a deity. Like in 1966. They called themselves Cream.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the creative host of Friday Fictioneers.
Dale, the photo is fabulous and I immediately thought of Cream when I saw it.