Short Stories to Entertain

  The white painted vertical timber slats, joined together by two long timbers, one top, one bottom, swayed gently in time with her rocking back and forth as Lucy sat on the low fence post joining a series of timbers, just watching. The dog behind her growled but spluttered and coughed, a long chain clipped to its choke chain collar tightening as it tugged, gouging out the dirt of the yard. Oblivious, the heels of Lucy’s shoes bumped a thumping rhythm on the post. Grey skirt, red shirt, grey socks rolled untidily around her ankles, her school uniform. Bruised knees. Brown leather school bag dusty at her feet held so tightly between dusty lace up shoes. Scuffed toes scraping dirt and stones. Maybe she had a fear of snatchers, anything for a laugh, that was her school, one that appeared to despise newcomers.  If you were to ask, at this precise moment, at the end of her first week, what she thought of this Monday’s school day she would say, pretty ugly . The tears she felt like ...

She was upstairs when the telephone rang but she had no problem hearing it. The polished wood flooring of the hallway and lack of soft furnishings created a hard space where the loud bell could echo and resonate throughout the house. She was sitting on the bed filing her nails into shape, the scraping she knew scratched at his nerves which was why she was doing it now. To avoid a later minor skirmish. She saved the doing of it in his presence for when she wanted to make a point, to emphasize an issue, to deliberately get under his skin. She did not rush to answer the call. She was not that sort of person. She rarely rushed to do anything. Slowly she put down the nail file on the bedside table deliberately placing it where she had asked for a phone to be installed just to remind her how ludicrous it was to deny such a simple and necessary luxury.        The stairs were low rise meaning a long flight with shallow, wide steps, the consequence of having an expansive hall...

  6 After Marge had cooked us dinner I managed to get Monkie to drag himself away from a very entertaining conversation with her so we could go and pick up the girls. The girl from the shop, Wendy, turned out to be one of those who wouldn’t stop yacking. By contrast her friend, Joan, seemed a bit… well, I don’t really know how she seemed, she was just so quiet. Her look made me think of eating beef stew with dumplings. Anyway, thinking we might have made a mistake with the chalk and cheese we stuck the two of them in the back and headed off. The thing was my heart wasn’t in it. I think I’d only agreed to call them because of Monkie’s insistence. The truth was I had something really meaningful on my mind that was making me nervous. Something only a trip to the doctor would resolve.  As we were en route to Windsor I suggested we swing into the pub down by the river in Sunbury. Monkie did question the reasoning so I told him it was like going to the bank to withdraw a few pounds ...