Boys will be boys 🙂
Okay, so I know we don’t usually do creative writing – in the form of shot stories – around here but it’s good be eclectic. Today’s piece is probably the briefest one so far and designed in mind to make you smile, or so I hope 🙂
Little Johnathon Rhodes was a dying slow death in the painfully long line to the Ferris Wheel right beside his mum. There was a smelly old man behind them who looked like he crawled out of Mr. Humphrey’s dumpster. Not a comforting thought in these troubling times. He tugged at his mum’s skirt in panic. He was going to explode. Any. Minute. Now.
She turned around and peered down. Frustration etched in her wrinkles, tired white flags of a battle lost. “What is it?”
He could not speak. If he did the dam would break. Shifting uneasily from right to left, he held…
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