I was walking to the shop, just, to get some bread for our tea. This woman was packing her three kids into the car, out for the day it looked like. She was holding a scooter in one hand – the foot-stand swinging and threatening to kneecap her; an inflatable footie goal in the other. Her smaller kids were already in, fighting with their seat-belts and swearing at each other (oh my god, move over, you prick; no dickhead, you move); the older lad was waiting, holding two footballs.
I’d slowed up to let a car pass before I crossed, so I saw it all.
The older lad was spinning one of the balls on the end of his finger but he dropped it. He tried to come forward to catch it, but it bounced slow and high twice. Once on the pavement, once on the road behind the mom. You could see the thoughts going through her head: little prat, told him to hold ‘em, oh that car, smash coming, it’ll be my fault – all in a split nanosecond. Then she twirled, flicked the other foot out, neat as you like, and booted the ball onto the back seat in between her other two kids as the vehicle passed by.
She looked up and I saw it as I stepped off the pavement. The pride in her eyes. Visions of Wembley, hoisting the trophy high, while the crowds whooped and cheered.
Then I was past, around the corner and at the shop, choosing between thick white toastie and medium sliced wholemeal.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
FlashFlood Contributes to Best Microfiction 2021!
Huge congratulations to Bill Merklee and Regan Puckett, our two 2020 FlashFlood nominees who have been chosen to appear in Best Microfiction...

-
We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
-
How’d you do it, girl? Waitressing part-time at Steak ‘n’ Shake since the day after your sixteenth birthday, working weekends through high s...
-
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...

No comments:
Post a comment