Keaton Island

My morning bike ride will take me to town, where I’ll pick up sourdough bread and assorted produce from the CSA share.

I hear laughter before seeing them. Around the curve, in matching red Adirondack chairs, their gazes are fixed on Keaton Island.

I stop and ask if they are on vacation.

“Our daddy vacations here every summer,” one of the honey-blonde beauties drawls. “That’s his place, out there.”

I smile. It’s not my place to argue.

I buy two apples for the ladies and stop on my way home — but they are gone.

Her photo, dated 1942, flutters in one chair.

[103 words]

Nice to be back to FF after blogcation.

Buster Keaton summered in my home town for years. He had two sons, but in my story, I gave him two daughters. I like to think that Keaton still vacations here.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host of Friday Fictioneers.