Friday Fictioneers: We all turn yellow

For Madison Woods‘ Friday 100 word photo-prompt(picture above)-flash-fiction challenge. This is a 100-ish words.

I see myself now. Stained and gone an off-yellow colour. I am old, disposable, but I know I did good. I know I did from the way Freddie and Fannie ran their sweaty palms over my prints when they paid their goodbye visit earlier today. Was nice they came to bid us goodbye, both me and the sturdy wooden frames I had all these years dressed. They laughed and chatted, brother and sister, to one another as they reminisced softly about the jam and chocolate prints they had left and of old Mac the cat who scratched parts of me to tatters. I remember how that hurt. But It was time, all things have to go at one point, they said. She wept a tear before stepping outside forever. And then I felt myself fold softly underneath the crumbling home. As I lay on the ground, part of the rubble, I remembered I did not bid them or the world goodbye, but that is okay, who knows, after all I may be recycled. That was the thing people did nowadays was it not?

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