By Rick Trushel
Frankie took three shriveled-up carrots with their green tops from the refrigerator and left them on a chipped dish. With a fat, stubby pencil Frankie printed a thank you note to the Easter Bunny on lined tablet paper.
On Easter morning, behind the drapes there was a woven basket filled with tangled strips of yellow cellophane, topped with chocolate bunnies, marshmallow peeps, a handful of jelly beans, and a blue, dyed egg with F-r-a-n-k-i-e stenciled on it.
When Frankie checked the fridge, three dehydrated carrots stared back.
“There is no Easter Bunny,” Frankie’s mother whispered and gathered her child closer.
“Liar.”
I really like this piece. I particularly like the last line.
Like a lightning bolt straight into my heart.
The consequence: Cold revenge in the form of a rebellious teen…..
Someone else is good a love stories! Great job Rick!
Sweet! (At least, that’s how I took it.) Thanks, Rick!
Realistic. Frankie’s last word would probably have been mine if I had been in his position as a youngster. A Winner!
Ooh, I was mad when the mom said that, but the last line makes you realize her reverse psychology. Love it!
So fine! Yes, a love story, ending with a hug.