Pity, Really
“Pity, really…”
I glared, before turning my back on them. They didn’t understand.
“Bye,” I whispered, not daring to breathe, in case tears followed.
“He had a good life…”
I closed my eyes. A good life? Hardly. He never had a chance to have a life.
He was only ten.
By Grant
His Ring
The ring sat, gleaming slightly, on the coffee-table. I didn’t notice it until I’d searched the whole house, calling out. I sat back heavily on the sofa and stared.
The note beneath it, handwritten, beckoned to be read, but I didn’t dare.
The words “I’m leaving” were still wet.
By Grant
It Can’t Be
“It can’t be mine!”
“It is, there’s been no one else.”
“No, it can’t be!”
“It is! It is and I’m scared! What are we gonna do?”
“It’s not mine… it can’t be… it’s not my problem.”
He turned and left, leaving her dumbstruck as the child inside her moved.
By Grant
Bad Day
I screamed in frustration at the door. After such a bad day, traffic, work, and a fine, i had lost my keys, again. I thumped the door heavily, and swore loudly, colourfully. Just then my neighbor came up behind me,
“You dropped these.”
He was holding my keys.
Oh.
By Grant
