Growing up, Lydia’s parents ran a creamery. People traveled miles to get a taste. They trained her. She grew bitter. They expected her to stay. She longed to leave.
Twenty years on, the world grew less alluring. Lydia slumped into the seat for her umpteenth flight.
Her neighbor leaned close with a cup of ice cream in hand. “This is delicious.”
A pang tightened Lydia’s chest. “But, it’s made on an assembly line. The true quality of ice cream comes from the love and special care that’s put into it.”
She sighed. I think it’s time to go back home.
This story is my contribution to “Friday Fictioneers,” a weekly challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff Fields. With the help of a photo prompt to inspire, we’re to write a 100-word story. The photo this week was taken by Na’ama Yehuda.
If you would like to join in with this encouraging group of writers or read their stories from this week, visit HERE.