North Scituate. On the way to Hartford.


When Son accepted a job at Cape Cod, both of us had mixed feelings. We were happy that he would be no longer jobless. I was bearing the burnt of it, and watching my account dwindling to zero. The second uppermost feeling was utter wretchedness at leaving Houston. Son never wanted to leave Houston, but what could he do? He wasn’t getting one to his liking.

His children lived in Houston with his ex. By moving away, he wouldn’t be able to see them very often—specially IB (the youngest one). I was extremely sad when saying farewell to him. I shed tons of tears before leaving, knowing it would be quite a while before I could see IB again.

We thought we would be living in Fall River. It had such a lovely sound to it, whereas the sound of New Bedford (where at present we live) wasn’t very charming.

Recently Son asked me to accompany him to Hartford for a change. We were passing through Fall River, and I espied a strange looking dome. “What is that?” I asked. “A cooling tower”, was Son’s reply. Oops! the water from it drained into the river, and lakes.

” Isn’t it toxic?”

Why can’t they build Nuclear Energy Plants away from human habitations?


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt


3 thoughts on “Toxic”

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