Friday Fictioneers writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The small notice stuck in a crack between the iron gate and the old concrete wall warned the water would be shut off if the bill was not paid within a few days. My Grandpa’s garden looked beautiful. An abundance of flowers and assorted edibles. I remember when this garden fed our family and most of the neighborhood. It was hard for Grandpa now to make ends meet on his meager Social Security check. After putting in so many years slaving away at that factory job, he had been laid off without pension.