The scrapyard was littered with about every object one could imagine. Beat up bicycle frames, refrigerators, ovens, washing machines all dotted the landscape. I even spotted an old Franklin stove.
“Carburetor for a ’72 Chevy Nova, huh?” asked Rufus, the establishment proprietor. “Yeah, I’ve got one. Be right back.”
As I waited a dash of color caught my eye. To my left was an old toilet filled with multi-colored pansies. When Rufus returned, I pointed to his planter.
“Great idea. Fill an old toilet with potting soil and plant flowers,” I smiled.
“Potting soil?” he asked, frowning.
My stomach lurched.
Word Count: 100
[This is my entry into this weeks Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Use the photo prompt to create a short story in 100 words or less.]