We coasted past a disused factory, then some abandoned office buildings surrounded by weeds.
‘What a waste,’ my father muttered.
‘Wonder what happened to everyone?’ my sister asked.
‘Left to seek a better life, or just trying to cling on to their old one.’
‘And us?’
‘There are those that leave, those that fight, trying to revive a place, and those that just sit it out. We were born and raised here. Its home, but there’s no point fighting a battle that can’t be won. Not unless you’re a billionaire.’
‘We’re a sit-it-out family?’
‘Where would we go?’
‘To Momma?’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
I never thought of that term, sit-it-out family before, Rob, but it makes sense. And you highlight effectively the reasons someone might choose to do that.
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