The day John finished his 15 year sentence, he made his way to the old neighborhood. His eyes paused at the run down building. With its corrugated iron roof, frayed walls and intact windows – it tug at his heart-strings.
This is where he grew up. This is where he made memories.
Dropping by the tannery after school and watching his father run the leather business was his favorite pasttime.
But now, 15 years later, he had disappointed his family, and himself.
The next morning, he was found hanging from the ceiling, feet dangling inches off his fathers old wooden desk.
Word count: 100
This post was written as part of the Friday Fictioneers Challenge hosted by the wonderful Rochelle. The idea is to write a short story (100 words), based on the photo prompt provided.
To read more interesting stories, hop on over to froggy island.
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