“Now look here Goldilocks, I’m getting fed up with all this time wasting. You’re not doing yourself any favours. I’m telling you things are not looking good for you. Tell us what happened and I promise I’ll put in a good word with the judge, see if I can get you a lighter sentence.”
“Yeah, like I’m going to believe that. I ain’t saying nothing ’til my brief gets here and you can’t make me.”
“Goldilocks. I’ve got witnesses who will swear they saw you at both places. On the wall at the barracks on Wednesday and in the woods late Thursday afternoon.”
“Hang on a minute! OK, I admit I was in the woods on Thursday. It was me that ate the porridge and broke that baby bear’s stupid chair but I was nowhere near the barracks on Wednesday. There’s no way you’re pinning the Dumpty murder on me.”
As usual, a great set of prompts this week from ‘Inspiration Monday’. This week, as an extra challenge, Stephanie has suggested we might try writing our story in just 50 words, so here goes. The prompt I went for was ‘Wrong Victim’.
The Wrong One
“You’ve done what?”
“Weren’t my fault boss. You said, take out the big guy watching the soldiers.”
“Idiot! I meant the Grand Old Duke of York, him on the horse, not that egg-head Dumpty. What’s the Fairy Godmother going to say when she hears about this? God help us.”
I realise that when my head seems to empty of ideas I have a tendency to seek refuge in very short stories. Yesterday it was the 140 character stories and today it is some more 5×5 (25 word) stories. I tell myself that at least I am writing each day ……
It all got too much. The job was so demanding. The kids were never quiet. This was the only solution. She hoped they would understand.
He watched her every day. She always looked so beautiful. Why did she ignore him? Did she know he existed? He smiled, she soon would.
The voices wouldn’t keep quiet. Day after day getting louder. Their instructions filled his head. He wanted to ignore them. They laughed at his foolishness.
The howling wind gathered momentum. Our flimsy tent shook violently. We huddled together for comfort. Eerie voices accompanied the wind. Something was looking for us.
“Everybody get down!” he shouted. Nobody was going to argue. I recognised the gunman’s voice. He realised I knew him. “Sorry,” he said and fired.
Jack and Jill climbed higher. The weather was getting worse. Their bodies were found yesterday. Jack still holding his pail. Jill was by his side.
Mrs. Dumpty was in tears. Her dear Humpty in pieces. The police thought he’d jumped. But she knew the truth. The King was behind this.
“Please, she cried, “Not now.” “I’ve got to,” he said. The doctor took the baby. Her anguish tore her apart. Her baby, gone for ever.