Dry Land
The sun was strong and Julian barely
had the energy left to wipe the sweat from his brow. He had never felt so weak.
He needed food and water. And fast.
But there was hope, for he could see
land. If only he could summon up the energy to navigate the choppy waters and
clamber ashore.
A further half hour passed, the boat
drifting closer to dry land without any input from Julian, who was moments away
from collapse.
Finally, his boat hit something solid
and, panting, he staggered onto the jetty.
Never again would he go on a pedalo!
Writing
Writing is such a powerful medium, I
think, as I finish another word with satisfaction. It can transport the most
unimaginative mind to fantastical faraway places. It can communicate the most
complex of emotions. It has the power to make you feel less lonely when you see
characters experiencing feelings that you thought were unique to you. A few
carefully chosen words can paint an entire canvas in your mind. Me, I like to
use words to move people too. I paste down a ‘W’ from
a Guardian headline. My writing is complete. ‘pAy UP oR You Won’T SEe TOMoRroW’
Seeing It Coming
Dave had been having an affair for
months. Anne knew but she was in denial. There were just too many late nights
at the office and he’d
never before had to attend so many weekend conferences.
Finally, Anne confronted him about it
while preparing dinner, and he admitted it.
“You’ve let
yourself go,”
he said. “It’s your
own fault. You’re
boring and frumpy these days. You’re
just not exciting any more, not like her. You should have seen it coming.”
She turned from chopping vegetables
for dinner, the knife still wet in her hand.
He should have seen it coming.
KM
I Spy
“I spy with my little eye something beginning with…”
Oscar’s eyes swept round the living room.
Daddy’s tired, bloodshot eyes regarded his
son with fondness.
“…M!”
Daddy made a show of looking all
round the room.
“Man?”
Daddy asked,
pointing at his own chest.
Oscar shook his head.
“Hmmm…
mantelpiece?”
Oscar frowned and shook his head.
“Monkey!”
Daddy said,
looking at Oscar’s soft
toy.
“No!”
“Oh, I give up,” Daddy
sighed, too tired to go on.
“Mummy, silly!”
said Oscar,
pointing.
Daddy turned to see the door swinging
shut of its own accord. Mummy had been dead two months now.
Oklahoma!
The eleven year olds of Woodstock
Primary were well into their Thanksgiving production of the musical, Oklahoma!
The hall was packed with proud parents, teachers and fellow pupils. The
children looked adorable in their costumes and audience members frequently
cooed, applauded and cheered. Each and every child performed radiating
happiness. But if people had looked closer, they might have noticed that little
Tommy’s smile was only skin-deep. In that
boy’s cute holster wasn’t the plastic gun he had practised
with in rehearsal, but the pistol he had taken from his daddy’s cellar. Fourteen wouldn’t leave the hall alive that night.
Flames
Sarah was carrying her pot to the
baker’s shop. For a copper coin he would
put it in with the loaves and she knew that the big bread oven would make the
stew really tender. She hadn’t
gone more than a few steps from her own front door when she smelled burning.
Flames leapt from building to building ahead of her, crossing the narrow
streets where the upper floors almost touched. The crackle became a mighty roar
and her path ahead was completely blocked with fire. She turned in horror and
fled as far from Pudding Lane as she could.
Beyond 100 Drabbles is available from Amazon (and is an excellent read)
Thank you for the feature!
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