Can’t believe she’s gotten away with it. Me stuck here… middle of an alfalfa field… she’s running scot free.

All Dorothy’s fault. She weren’t the sweet, innocent girl Aunty Emm thought. Conniving little ruffian.

Sure, the tornado was true. But that story about the house blowing away … a magical land… Who would believe such a tale?

Just because I had bright red hair … my head hadn’t yet grown into my ears… t’was no reason for Dorothy to harass me like she did. Little witch.

Now, I’m not name callin’. T’was a witch in the story. It was Dorothy.

Written for Warm-Up Wednesdays @ https://flashfriday.wordpress.com/ . Requirements: Using the photo prompt, and 100 words, create a piece of flash fiction.  This week’s Warm Up Wednesday challenge: include someone who wishes to speak but can’t.


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