Tag Short Story

The Red Dress

freyathewriter 13 Comments

This story isn’t very pleasant, so please be warned.

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We’ve never had much money.  Put it this way, I come from the sort of family where we don’t buy cream. Mum uses a syringe to syphon off the ‘top of the milk’ to drizzle over puddings, and it’s strictly doled out to make sure nobody has more than anybody else – even Dad.

We spend a lot of time at jumble sales, helping out as well as buying. Anyone who knows anything about jumbles will know that if you help set up the trestles, pile up the clothes, toys and bric-a-brac, sort out the tea urn and custard creams, you get first pick before the crowds surge through the doors. It’s amazing what people chuck out. We get some pretty good stuff, but not knickers though. Mum draws the line at underwear.

Anyway, that’s where my dress comes in. I see it, shoved under an old dressing gown, right before they open the doors and the old biddies elbow their way in. A bright red sundress, hardly worn. Mine. It’s cotton, broderie anglaise Mum calls it, and fitted at the bust and waist. Since I’m finally getting boobs and hips, I will definitely look grown up in it. Best of all, it’s short, way above my knees, and it makes Mum’s eyebrows rise in that way that means she’s really not happy, but won’t say why. It’s perfect. Continue reading “The Red Dress” →

Something Decent – Friday Fictioneers

freyathewriter 17 Comments

Being somewhat new to the blogging my fiction game, I’ve been dipping in and out to find other bloggers entering into the same exciting world. I found Rochelle Wisoff-Fields a few days ago and loved her Friday Fictioneers challenge. Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes – and I welcome your comments!

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Copyright - Sarah Anne Hall

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

Something Decent

“No, no, NO!”

I surveyed the incandescent woman before me, replacing her carefully coiffed hair and perfect make up with my small niece’s tousled  mop and shiny red face. It saved me from retaliating. I would never smack Annabelle, even at her most tantrum-like. This woman, well…

“I. Asked. You. To. Show. Me. Something. Decent!”

She punctuated each word with a sharp jab of her index finger into my chest.

I sighed.

“This is my house, my front garden. I’m just collecting the paperwork for the next property. I’m sure you will fall in love with it.”

That shut her up.

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Overheard

freyathewriter 4 Comments

“We need to get rid of them, mate, there’s no other way.”

“Yeah, I’m sick of the sight of them.”

“The sooner we do it, the sooner we can get on with our plans.”

“Let’s get the tools organised and we can get cracking tonight, after dark.”

Wouldn’t this sound strange to you, dear? I often hear bits and pieces of conversation on the way to work, but this did rather make me prick up my ears. I must admit I rushed to catch up with the two young men to see if I could find out more. They were still deep in conversation as they waited to cross the road. They looked very furtive.

By the time I managed to find them again, squeezing past all the other people on their way to work, they had moved on to football. I groaned out loud, but not so that they could hear, of course. I was just about to forget the entire episode when the conversation turned again.

“You know we’ll end up in jail if we get caught, mate?”

“Best not get caught, then!” Continue reading “Overheard” →