I looked at the ramshackle contraption as Pa put the finishing touches on it. He was ready to light the fuse.
“Oh my God, you really think this thing’s gonna fly?!”
“Simple physics, m’boy! The fuel burns, the exhaust shoots out the bottom, and the rocket goes up!”
“Your fuel is gasoline!”
“Burns nice! My Ma always told me, ‘Use the right fuel’.”
I shook my head. “My Grandma always told me that you’re an idiot.”
Pa laughed as he lit the fuse.
An hour later, the fire department has a whole new story to add to the rest. And Pa’s hair grew back, eventually.
Hahahaha! Nicely written !!! 🙂
A most enjoyable write!
The picture is Robert Goddard, I believe, the father of modern rocketry.
Paul: It is. I should have put in a credit as such. (On Jenny Matlock's site, I titled my little tale "With Apologies to Robert Goddard"!)
Hahahaha! Great take on the prompt!!
Great story and well written, too!
Love this!
The one time I played with a fire like this my eyelashes barely grew back.
Still to this day.
It's hard to bat my lashes at a fella when I only have five stubby ones.
Sigh.