Scratch. Slide. Scratch… Matt gave in to the pavement and fell backwards with a sigh. The stifling July heat surrounded him.
“This is the end,” he said quietly.
Presently he heard footsteps and sat up, dazed. The blue figure of Mailwomen Miggle was approaching.
“Any mail?” asked Matt.
“Bills,” said Miggle cheerfully.
Matt dropped back down.
“What are doing?” asked Miggle.
“Existing” was the reply.
“Hm… I have something here that you might be interested in…”
Matt sat up and stared at Miggled with a puzzled expression.
“One of Bone Boy’s clues,” said Miggle, extending a piece of folded paper to Matt.
Immediately Matt hopped to his feet and snatched the paper, and without a word he ran off down the street.
This is a short play rather than a story, but being my only one, it doesn’t warrant a new category.
Late at night in a darkened kitchen. Sam enters and moves towards the fridge.
Sam: What do I want?
ENTER CHUCK THE ROBBER
Chuck: Oh dear, an inhabitant ahead.
Sam: Who are you?
Chuck: Never mind, continue your conversation with the fridge.
Chuck: You know, I’m quite thirsty. Are you going to get something or
are you just trying to cool the room?
It was cold and the wind rattled the windows. I was very pleased with the house,
and the owner answered all my queries openly, even enthusiastically.
“Anything else?” his smile rounded his cheeks.
“I noticed a hole in the wall,” I said.
His voice lowered.
“We have a small rodent problem,” he said. “But it’s nothing a few traps
won’t fix,” he said more firmly.
I smiled. I wasn’t worried. Would you be?