The Seagulls’ Fence

The falling slat startled the roosting seagulls.

“Whadaya doin’, Tommy? Supposed to be mendin’ fence not breakin’.”

“Damn gulls don’t belong this far inland.”

“They’s travellers. Sea in the morning. Eat. Home here at night.”

“Yeah? They need-a keep goin’ ‘stead-a shittin’ all over granpaw’s fence.”

“Breakin’ the fence ain’t gonna stop ’em from comin’ here, long as that compost sits there.”

“Why? Y’jus’ said they eat at sea.”

“Oh, they’s always lookin’ for food. Don’t always have a taste for fish.”

“We’ll see ’bout that. They need-a leave.”

With compost moved and covered, gulls left. Fence got mended.

 

99 Words. Written in response to Carrot Ranch’s July 12 Flash Fiction Challenge  and to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  Gulls photo prompt courtesy wildverbs. 

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