‘Add your name.’

There wasn’t much space left on the walls. What had once been grey concrete was now covered in garish name-tags.

I found a small corner.

‘Not there,’ Marguerite stopped me. ‘Front and centre.’

‘There’s no space.’

‘There’s always room for one more.’ The old lady pointed to a spot in the middle of the wall.

I sprayed my name. Another success story in her one-woman crusade to steer the local kids away from the gangs and the drugs.

‘You understand the significance of signing your name? You’ve made a promise to me.’

I nodded. Somehow, like all those before me, I knew I wouldn’t let her down.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.